


This Course We Plotted

by mickeym



Series: This Course We Plotted [1]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: spn_j2_bigbang, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-11
Updated: 2009-08-11
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared Padalecki has a life he loves: friends, family, a good job and plans to make it as a writer someday. All that is shaken up when he meets Detective Jensen Ackles one night, while working an overtime shift. Jensen is smart, interesting, fun to hang out with, and Jared's drawn in like a moth to a flame. They go from friends to lovers, to something even Jared didn't know he was looking for: partners. But Jensen's never done relationships, and he's not sure he can now. Will he realize his job is just a job, but Jared is his everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Course We Plotted

_Can't stop this thing we started_  
You gotta know it's right  
Can't stop this course we've plotted  
This thing called love we got it  
\---Bryan Adams, from Can't Stop This Thing We Started 

Sundays and holidays, Jared decides morosely, are the most boring days _ever_ to have to work. Late into mid-watch is just making it that much worse; it's nearly ten p.m., he hasn't had an officer come into the property room since probably five, and there's nothing on television. The fact that he's making time and a half doesn't negate the boredom factor even a little, and it's made even worse since if he was at home, he could be writing.

He's rooting around in his locker in the break room, trying to decide if the caramel popcorn is still edible or if he should take his chances with the regular popcorn, when the buzzer sounds through the empty halls of the property room. He's about to holler out that he'll be right there when he hears, "got a shitload of stuff to bring in, can I borrow your cart, darlin'?"

Jared doesn't recognize the voice, though he can hear the Texas in it – one displaced native to another – and he can't resist calling back, "no problem, sweetheart," as he rounds the corner to the officer's window.

The officer behind the pane does a double take at him, then grins, faint red appearing on his cheeks. "Sorry, man. I'm used to Sera being here. She sick or something?"

He is probably the most gorgeous guy Jared's ever seen. Incredible green eyes, light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks, the plushest, pouty-est lips _ever_ , and holy cow does he look good in the jeans and sweater he's wearing. He's tall, though not as tall as Jared (but who is), and looks as though he hits the gym pretty regular. For just the briefest second, Jared wonders how much ribbing and shit this guy took when he was a recruit and a new officer. Can't be easy to be as pretty as him, and wear a badge.

It's not good to drool over the officers when they come to the window, though, so Jared just shrugs, hoping for nonchalance to cover the moment. 

"I think so, but dunno for sure. They called and offered me the shift, kind of a last-minute type thing, so probably. I usually work days, Monday through Friday, which is probably why you haven't seen me, normally by this time of the night I'm tucked up in bed, but who says no to extra money? Especially since Christmas isn't too far away, right? I just—" Jared trails off, aware of his babbling from the amused look the guy is giving him, and sighs. "And you need the cart, right?"

"Yeah." The officer's smile slides into a grimace. "CSU techs will probably be bringing more stuff in later, but I got some stuff with me – computers and hard drives, disks, stuff like that." 

Jared heaves a sigh. "Swell. Copyright stuff?" He pushes the door open and shoves the cart through. "Fraud? Something nice and white collar?"

The officer – Jared finally thinks to look at his name badge, sees that it reads 'Ackles' – shakes his head. "Nothing so nice. Kiddie porn. That's not the best part, though." Jared sees the twist of Ackles' mouth and mentally substitutes 'nastiest' for 'best'.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We got there, the perp was sodomizing his own kid, with the cameras rolling. Seven-year-old boy. The perp's mom – the vic's grandma – is the one who called us."

"Oh, _gross_." Sometimes Jared really hates working for the police department; hates having a front-row seat to the all the sick, nasty things people seem to be capable of. 

"Tell me about it." Ackles turns toward the door. "I'll be back in a few."

"Take your time. Seriously. Oh, dude. What's your code number? I can start typing up the transaction report."

"Two-seven-three-seven. Ackles. Jensen."

Jared gives him a grin. "Okay, Ackles, Jensen. You bring in the sicko's stuff, and I'll start preparing the reams of paperwork. Kill off some more old-growth forest."

Ackles' bark of laughter lingers even after the man's disappeared out the door.

~~~~~

It takes Jared an hour and twenty-two minutes to package, label and type up all of the crap Ackles brought in. CSU arrives about fifteen minutes before his shift ends with their take from the crime scene, but fortunately late-watch has already clocked in, and takes their stuff in for him.

Jared's still muttering as he puts the labels on each envelope. "What kind of sick asshole d'you gotta be to fuck your own little kid? Hell, _any_ kid, but your own? Come on."

Ackles – Jensen, kind of a weird name – shakes his head. "You'd be surprised how many of 'em are out there."

"Probably," Jared says. "Hope I'd be surprised, anyway. I dunno, I'm kind of losing my faith in humanity, working in here. How do you keep doing it?"

Jensen shrugs. "Getting the assholes off the street helps, a lot. Beyond that—I'm pretty partial to tequila when I'm off-duty."

"I can see why." Jared finishes up the final envelope and hands it over to Ackles to initial off on. "Sign and date it, and then you're done." Jared watches as Ackles signs the transaction sheet, then cocks his head. "Which division you work out of?"

"No division. I used to work Vice, but got transferred to CACU when Adams retired." Ackles covers his mouth but the yawn pops his jaw, and Jared winces in sympathy. "Sorry, man."

"No, I totally understand. I think I would fall over, except for the sugar and caffeine in my system." He nods toward the back where the freight elevator is waiting to take all the evidence downstairs. "I'm not done yet, but man, go on home and go to bed. And come in some time on day watch. Don't be a stranger." 

"Will do—I never got your name." Ackles frowns. "Must've been all that fun we were having."

"Must've been." Jared ignores the look Alona gives him, eyebrow raised in question. "It's Jared. Padalecki."

"All right, Jared Padalecki, you have a good night."

"You too, Detective."

Ackles is already heading out the door, and Jared clamps down on the impulse to go after him, invite him out for an after-shift coffee. Or beer. Whatever.

_Just because he's gorgeous doesn't mean he's gay. Just because he's friendly doesn't mean he's gay._

Jared can wish, though, and ignores the little voice in his head that sounds a lot like his momma, telling him if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

~~~~~

Monday morning is cold, and even though sunrise is hours away, yet, it looks like it's going to be an uncharacteristically gloomy day. Well, the cold isn't so uncharacteristic this late in the fall, not for Boulder, but the rest of it, definitely. The sky looks cloudy, no hint of stars or moon shining down, and like as not it'll be snowing before the day is over. Normally the first snow of the season makes Jared revert to being a big old kid (though some people say that about him most every day), with thoughts of snowball fights and snowmen, but not today. He didn't get nearly enough sleep, and what he did get was interrupted by weird, ugly dreams, and he really hates starting the week out in such a foul mood.

He turns the dogs out to run around the yard and do their thing while his coffeemaker finishes doing its thing, and contemplates the contents of his refrigerator and cupboards for something breakfast-like. His stomach still feels twisted and sour from the dreams, though, so Jared decides to skip breakfast for now, and just take some protein bars in with him.

It's just him and Chad, since Sandy's still on vacation and Sergeant Ferris and Lt. Kripke won't get in until about nine. That's one of the perks to working the six-thirty to two-thirty shift; they only have about five hours of supervisors hovering around, though really, the supervisors are pretty cool. 

Jared grunts a goodbye to Alona as he passes her on the way into the building, and gets a grunt in return. He wonders idly how long it took her to get all the shit from CSU put up.

Chad's busy with an officer at the window, so Jared just says "hey", and continues on to the break room to refill his coffee mug. He takes the last of the pot of coffee, and spends the next ten minutes digging through the cupboards to find the new can and the filters to get another pot started. He has a feeling he's going to need it more than usual this morning.

The officer is gone and Chad's back at his desk by the time Jared comes back out, mug in hand, rich coffee-scent briefly filling the room before being overpowered by the smell of weed. Someone must've brought in a big haul during late-watch, because normally Jared doesn't even notice it any more.

"So you wanna tell me what's eating you this morning, dude? Usually you're all sunny smiles, and life's so great, and shit, until I wanna punch your lights out." Chad has his feet propped up on his desk, leaning back in his chair, looking all comfy and awake. 

Jared smiles saccharine-sweet at Chad, and gives him the finger, then thumps his head down onto his desk. "Didn't sleep for shit, last night. I don't think I slept maybe two hours."

Chad raises an eyebrow. "What, you stay up too late working on your Harlequin masterpiece? I can't wait until you're a world-famous romance author, and I can say 'yeah, I knew him when—'."

Jared laughs. "Oh, fuck you. Nah, it was—just stuff. Had an officer bring in some kiddie porn stuff, like, the dude was fucking his own kid and making movies, and it just really got to me."

"You _watched_ them?" Chad makes a gagging noise.

"What? No! Just, the officer told me they were called out, and got there when the guy was in the act, and that stuck with me." Jared shudders. "All the sick stuff people do, that's the one I most don't get. Why kids?"

"Ugh. I dunno, man. I mean, porn's cool, but not with kids." Chad grins. "And hey, I found this site—"

"No."

"You don't even know what it is!"

Jared takes a big slurp of his coffee, hoping it's cooled down enough he doesn't scald his mouth, and shakes his head. "Any porn site that's got you so happy, I don't want to know about."

"That's the beauty of it, Jay-man. It's not just regular porn, it's got chicks-on-chicks, and queer porn, too."

"You do realize you're kind of offensive, right? And totally not politically correct." Jared manages a small smile when Chad gives him a wounded look. "Seriously, Chad. 'Queer'? You only get to say it if you are it."

"Says who?"

"Me and every other queer in existence." Jared thinks about all the times he was called 'queer' or 'faggot' in school, and his mouth twists. Chad didn't mean anything by it – Jared's known him long enough to know that – but not everyone is going to know that. "Seriously, just, don't use that word, okay?"

"Fine." Chad huffs out a breath and says, "I'll email the URL to you, you can check it out yourself."

"Don't do it from here." He's not even going to waste his breath telling Chad again that he's not interested. "Wait 'til you get home, email my home addy."

"Well, duh," Chad frowns. "Do I look stupid?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Jared just smiles into his coffee mug while Chad sputters indignantly at him.

~~~~~

It takes Jared all week to shake the mood that settled in on Monday, and he decides it must be the combination of gray skies – without any snow, dammit – and the proximity of the holidays, plus the fact that he hasn't been able to focus on writing at all. His characters are stuck, his brain is stuck, and all he wants is this stupid week to be over with.

Which, of course, is why Detective Jensen Ackles comes sailing through the door Friday afternoon, ten minutes before shift change, a box tucked under one arm and a grim look on his face.

Jared groans; of course it's going to play out this way. "Let me guess, you need the cart again."

Ackles nods. "The big one."

"Dude, no way."

"Sorry, man. We did a search warrant today."

Fuck. So much for getting off on time. Or even remotely close to on time. Jared sighs and nods. "Be back in a sec." 

"I'll be here," Ackles calls after him, and Jared's tempted to turn around and stick his tongue out. Or something.

He settles for calling over his shoulder, "when I said don't be a stranger, I didn't mean ten minutes before shift change!"

It actually takes two trips with the big cart, and by that time Chad's gone and Rosenbaum's on, logging onto his computer. He hollers out, "Hey, Jenny!" when Ackles comes through the first time, and Jared's fascinated by the dull red flush that stains Ackles' cheeks before he ducks out the door again, waving and muttering about needing some papers from his car. 

"'Jenny'?" He asks Mike, when Ackles is out of earshot. "You know him?"

"We were in the academy together." Mike frowns at the computer and hits a couple of keys. "Stupid system. _Why_ did they think we needed to upgrade?"

"Because the higher ups are idiots?" Jared sighs when his screen freezes, and tells himself to wait, maybe it'll reset itself without him having to reboot. "Wait, you were in the academy?"

"Yeah. Didn't finish, though. Got about six weeks into it and decided I wasn't cut out to be a cop, so I dropped out."

"When were you in?" Mike's been a property clerk for as long as Jared's been here – going on six years, now – and he's never heard this story before.

"Um. It's been…ten years, I think. About that, anyway. But yeah, me and Ackles – we were all in the same class."

"And you call him Jenny _why_?"

"Because he's an ass who doesn't know when to quit." Ackles kind of throws himself into the chair in front of the officer's window and gives Mike a look that's part scowl and part smile. "Been a while, Mikey."

"I'm here five out of seven every week, my man."

"Yeah, I know. They've had me working late watch for a while."

"So who'd you piss off, Jen?"

Jared listens with half an ear to the back-and-forth banter, but tunes it out after a few minutes so he can focus on getting the entries into the computer as quickly as possible. He's still printing labels out when Mike starts in on the transaction sheet, cataloguing all the items so Ackles can sign that they've been turned in. 

"Mike, I'll get these put up on the shelves if you'll finish up the transaction sheet and get a signature."

"Sure, man." 

The back room is quiet, and Jared leans against the wall for a minute, wishing he could just will all this stuff put up and have it be done. He's tired, he's tired of being _here_ , and all he wants to do is go home and sleep for a year or two. Or at least all night, without dreams of small children calling for help.

Sergeant Ferris is in the gun cage, and Jared waves a half-hearted hello as he goes by.

"Y'all doing another gun run next week?"

"Week after. Next week's Thanksgiving." She steps out from between the shelves and eyes him up and down. "You okay, Jared?"

"Just tired. Been a long week." He gestures at the carts, one he's pushing and the other pulling behind him. "And CACU's been busy today."

She nods. "Looks like. Who brought it in?"

"Ackles."

"I thought he was working Vice." She nods toward the back. "C'mon, I'll help you put it up."

"Thanks, Sarge." Jared gives her a tired smile. "He said something about being on loan to CACU when he was in Sunday."

"This is his second trip in this week?" Ferris blinks. "Wow."

"Yeah. I'd never seen the guy before, and bam, here he is twice in one week."

"He doesn't work days very often, unless it's later in the day." They stop in front of the open shelves and Jared frowns, looking for a stretch of space to fit all the envelopes into.

"You know, I think I'm gonna put all of this into one of the big bins; keep it all together that way." He gives Ferris a smile. "That way you can get back to your guns."

"Oh, joy." She laughs. "Are you working over Thanksgiving?"

Jared nods. "Yeah, Chad wanted Thanksgiving, and I'd rather have Christmas, because there'll be snow by then and I can go skiing."

"Not going home? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Nah, not so long. I went home last year for the holidays. And mom and dad were out over the summer. But they decided they wanted to do some sort of cruise thing this year, and Meggie's boyfriend wants to take her home to meet his folks, and Jeff's got his in-laws to visit, so I'm just gonna stay here and actually chill."

He's able to say that without actually feeling too homesick, which is a nice change.

"That sounds pretty nice, actually." Ferris doesn't go back to the gun cage; she hands the stuff to Jared while he stacks it in the bin he's chosen. "It's always nice to just relax when you're on vacation."

"Yeah, I thought so, too. I mean, I'll miss 'em – and I'll have to go down at some point, because I love Boulder, but y'all just don't do barbeque like Texas – but it'll be good. Quiet. Maybe I'll even get some writing done."

"That's the spirit." Ferris leans back against the shelving and watches Jared shuffle and shift things around until he can fit everything into the bin, then pats him on the shoulder. "Now go home, and have a good weekend."

He gives her a salute. "Yes, ma'am. Ten-four." 

She's laughing as she heads back to the gun cage, and Jared feels more light-hearted than he's felt all week as he heads back up to the office area to sign out and collect his coat and keys. 

Light-hearted turns to light-headed when he heads out of the building, and rounds the corner of the parking lot to find Ackles leaning against the building wall, obviously waiting for him, if the smile he gets is anything to go by.

"Uh—hi?"

"Hey." Ackles has the prettiest eyes. Jared kind of wants to fall into them and lose himself. "I feel bad, because that's twice now I've come in right as your shift is ending, with a shitload of stuff."

Jared grins. "Dude, no worries. That's my job, y'know? And you don't act like an asshole while you're waiting, which some of your guys do."

"Seriously?" Ackles falls into step with Jared, heading toward the side lot. "That seems like a pretty stupid thing to do."

Jared nods. "You'd be surprised how many of 'em think they can just have their way however they want it, and they get this attitude like, 'I'm a cop, so you have to do what I say', because they think it's going to impress us. But really? Not so much."

"I wouldn't think so." Ackles pauses, then looks up. "Jared, right?" He waits for Jared's nod, then says, "Dude, I gotta ask – how freakin' tall _are_ you?"

"Obviously taller than you, shorty," Jared snickers. When Ackles glowers at him, the snickers turn into a full-on belly laugh that feels so good. It's even better when Ackles joins him laughing. It's like the sun's finally come out from behind the clouds, warming him up and lighting everything up around him.

Whoa. Time to head those thoughts off at the pass.

"So where're you parked, Detective?" Jared's trying to remember where he parked his truck this morning.

"Oh, um. Back up front, in the officer's parking. And dude. It's Jensen, unless I'm arresting you." Ackles' cheeks get that faint flush again that Jared finds kind of adorable.

"Jensen it is." Jared gives him a sly grin. "So, Jensen, you walking me to my car? You wanna carry my books for me, too?"

"Jackass. I do that, and you're gonna want to be pinned or something." Ackles flicks his gaze upward where the cloudy, gray skies look ready to drop snow at any minute. "I _was_ gonna see if you wanted to have a beer, maybe shoot some pool—"

"Please tell me you drink at the Golden Bee." Jared's already anticipating unwinding in the welcoming atmosphere of his favorite bar, cold beer and maybe some shots, with a round or two of pool in the back, afterward, all to the tune of Bud's piano playing.

Another flash of that grin heats Jared up from the inside, and he reminds himself this is not being asked out on a date. This is two sorta-coworkers having a drink after work, no matter how much it feels like they're flirting. "Doesn't everybody?"

"The ones who have any taste do." 

Ackles -- _Jensen_ \-- nods. "True enough. So, meetcha there?"

"First one there grabs the table?" Jared figures he'll be there first since his truck is just up one row, and Jensen has to go back to the front of the building.

"Yep, but first round's on me." Jensen blows on his fingers. "Fuck, it's gotten cold out here. See you in a few minutes."

~~~~~

Jensen beats him to the bar, which maybe shouldn't surprise Jared as much as it does.

"What the hell, man, did you teleport here?" He settles himself into the empty chair and glances around. It's early yet, but already the main room is filling up. Must be a lot of people coming in for relaxing, anticipating the hectic pace of the weeks to come, with Thanksgiving and Christmas shopping and all of that.

"Sure. Scotty beamed me up, then down right into my chair." Jensen leans back and Jared tries really hard not to notice how Jensen's jeans pull across his crotch and thighs. "Wasn't fast enough, though, because the pool tables are all full."

"Dammit." Jared sighs and thinks wistfully about how it would be nice to have a pool table of his own. He could put it down in the basement, there's plenty of room down there for a game room or whatever. "Did you order anything yet?"

"Nah." Jensen shakes his head and waves to someone on the other side of the room. "I really just sat down right before you came in. I'll go put our order in at the bar; what's your poison?"

"Corona, with lime." Jared hesitates. It really has been a long week. "And a double shot of tequila."

"Gotcha." Jensen's gone in a flash, making his way through the growing crowd up to the bar. He returns a few minutes later with a dish of pretzels and a smile. "Be up in a few. I didn't ask if you wanted food—"

"Always," Jared says, reaching for the pretzels. "But pretzels work for now. I've got chili in the slow-cooker at home."

"That sounds good." Jensen takes a handful of pretzels and pops one in his mouth. "Hamburger, or beef?" 

"Shredded beef, tons of beans, spices my mom sent me. It's her recipe, though I've modified it some. I like it hotter than she usually makes it." Just thinking about it, spicy and hot, cooking all day long, is making Jared's mouth water. He swallows and chomps down on a pretzel.

Jensen shakes his head. "So what part of Texas you from?" 

Jared grins. "San Antone, home of the Alamo. What gave it away? And, you?"

"Richardson, just outside Dallas." Jensen returns the smile, eyes crinkling. "You can take the boy out of Texas, but you can't take Texas outta the boy. Your accent, your beer choice, your chili."

Jared laughs, long and loud. "And here I thought eight years in Colorado had me sounding native." 

"Not even close." Jensen looks up when the server appears with their drinks, and hands her a couple of bills after she sets them down. "Thanks. Bring us another round in a few minutes, please?"

She smiles at Jensen, and Jared's briefly jealous of the smile Jensen gives her in return, but squashes it down ruthlessly. "Sure thing."

Jensen raises his first shot, and watches while Jared does the same. "To Texas, and to not thinking about work at all for the next three days."

"Here, here." Jared waits to throw his shot back, taking the brief moment when Jensen throws his to look at the long expanse of throat, winter-pale skin exposed above the v-neck of his sweater. He tosses the tequila back and shivers when it burns down his throat and into his stomach. The Corona chases it nicely, deliciously icy-cold with the tang of lime. He glances over at Jensen. "Wait, three days? Must be nice."

"I just finished ten straight on, so I get three off, and then I'm on-call for the rest of the week. I'll probably go in Tuesday and Wednesday, work on paperwork and shit, but I'm gonna take it easy on Thursday. Eat a lot of turkey." He grins at Jared. "You got plans for the holiday?"

"Some of us gotta work," Jared says, taking another long swallow of his beer. "I wanted the last couple weeks of December off, and Chad wanted Thanksgiving, so that's how we're doing it this year." 

"Seems fair." 

"Yeah, we try for it, anyway." Jared tips his head back to get the last bit of beer, and plunks the empty bottle down on the table. "So you got family coming for the holiday? Wife, parents, siblings?"

Jensen shakes his head. "Not married, and not real close to my family. They're all still down in Texas—well, my sister's living in New York now, but she'll probably go back to Richardson for the holiday."

 _Back to Richardson_ , not _back home_. Jared wonders if Jensen's always been not-close to his family, or if something happened to cause a divide, but it doesn't feel like something he can just come out and ask, not an hour or so into the fragile beginning of a friendship.

"How'd you end up in Boulder?" He asks casually, digging in his pocket for his wallet when he notices the server heading their way. She smiles at him and takes the bills, then settles the drinks and clears the empties away. 

"Post-graduation trip," Jensen says, before picking up his shot glass. "Finished high school, wasn't sure what I wanted to be when I grew up, and decided I was going to travel a bit until I figured it out. Or at least that was the idea. I got to Boulder, and my truck died. It was holding together with spit and a prayer, and duct tape, so I wasn't surprised, but it left me kind of stranded. I had a friend who was up here, he'd graduated the year before me, and he said I could crash with him until I got back on my feet." Jensen shrugs. "I just—stayed. The first winter about killed me—" He grins at Jared's snort, then says, "—but I liked it here. Still like it here."

Jared nods. "Well, I came on purpose—stayed on purpose, too—and I still like it. Love the snow. I go skiing as often as I can, all winter long."

"Do you ever miss Texas?"

"Oh, sure." Jared throws the second shot back and bites into the lime wedge. "When I first got here, I missed it all the damn time. It's not like that, now, though I miss my family and stuff. But I got friends here, and work, and my house and my dogs—things are good."

"Not married?"

Jared snorts. "Not even."

"Girlfriend?"

He hesitates, because being known as out at work is one thing; telling a guy he barely knows – and a cop, at that – face-to-face is something else. While he's trying to decide what to do or say, Jensen waves a hand. 

"Never mind, dude. None of my business."

"No, it's." Jared gives a mental shrug. If Jensen turns out to be some homophobic maniac, better to know sooner rather than later, right? "I'm gay. So, y'know. Not gonna be a girlfriend. Or wife."

"Ah." Jensen's quiet then, attention focused on the bottle he's turning round and round between his hands. Jared says goodbye in his head to Jensen, and the friendship he was hoping for, never mind anything else, and pushes his chair back from the table.

"I'll just, um. Thanks for the drinks, it was nice—but I'll get out of your hair, leave you alone."

"Jared, wait." Warm fingers circle his wrist, tugging gently. "Sorry, I just—I needed a minute to process. Things. Don't go, man. I'm not gonna—it's okay."

Oh. 

The tension bleeds out of him as Jensen's words register, leaving Jared feeling a little light-headed with relief. 

"Not going to freak out?" He asks quietly, and is relieved to see Jensen smile, an odd little crook of his mouth.

"Nope."

"Well, good." 

The silence between them feels kind of heavy and awkward, though, and Jared's not sure what to do or say, now. If he's honest with himself, he was hoping for something from Jensen like, _hey, no worries, I'm gay, too_. 

In a perfect world…

The silence stretches out, and Jared finds himself blurting out words without giving them much thought beforehand: "You wanna come over for some honest-to-goodness Texas chili, and some Xbox or Playstation? I have Guitar Hero, Halo3, um, World of Warcraft, Smackdown versus Raw—"

"You had me at Guitar Hero," Jensen says, and drains his second beer. "So, um. Yes."

Relief pours through Jared, sweet and sharp, and he grins. "Great! Oh, uh, you're not allergic to dogs are you? I have two."

"Don't think so. Guess if I start sneezing, we'll know I am." Jensen hesitates briefly, then smiles. "They don't eat people, do they?"

"Harley and Sadie? Nah. They might lick you to death, but you're safe from being bitten or eaten. They both suck as guard dogs. I figure if anyone ever breaks in, they'll probably lick the burglars, then show them where all the good stuff is, make it easier for them to rob me."

Jensen snickers. "Yup, quality guard dogs, there. So, where d'you live?"

"Jib Court—out a little north of town. Um, you can follow me, but, go up 47th street, how it turns into Highway 43? And make a right onto Jay Road, and then a left onto 63rd street. You're gonna make a right onto Twin Lakes, and then the second right onto Kalua. Take the first right off that, it's Mast, and then Jib is right off Mast." Jared's pulling on his hoodie and hat while he talks, and he gets hung up in the arms of the sweatshirt while he's trying to gesture.

"Just—hang on a second, quit waving your arms around." Jensen steps forward and tugs on the hoodie until Jared can finish pushing his arms through. "Man, you should register yourself as a walking disaster waiting to happen." 

Jared waits until he has his jacket on and zipped up to stick his tongue out at Jensen, then pulls his cell phone out. "Gimme your number, and I'll give you mine, and if you get lost or turned around before we get there, you can just call me."

Jensen rattles off his number and Jared gives his, and then they're heading toward the door, pushing their way through the increasing crush of people. 

"Just imagine what it'll be like in here in another couple of hours. Though it woulda been nice to hear Bud play." Jared grunts when someone's elbow makes contact with his stomach, and he's glad he's as tall as he is, or he'd probably panic from claustrophobia. 

"Yeah. Glad we came here when we did." Jensen's right in front of Jared, and he stops suddenly when the path is blocked as a large party tries to make its way inside. Jared runs smack into him, and because throwing wood right now would be awkward at best, he makes himself think of road kill and his parents having sex so he doesn't think about how good Jensen's ass feels, and how he'd like to feel more of it. Preferably naked.

It's a relief to make it out into the cold, fresh air, the sky darkening into nighttime. It's still and quiet out here, away from the crowd, and Jared takes a minute to just breathe it in. He has his face turned upward when the first tiny flake hits, a sting of cold that turns to liquid.

"Snow! It's snowing!"

Jensen laughs at him. "Barely, dude. There's like, a handful of flakes in the air."

"First snow of the season, asshole. Haven't you ever seen _Frosty the Snowman_? It's like, magical."

"Jared. It's a few flakes. It's not _snow_ until you have to scrape it off your windshield."

Jared's dangerously close to pouting, and he knows this, but still. First snow. "I don't care. First snow. Even if it's just a few flakes." He unlocks his truck and climbs in. "First chance I get, you're getting pummeled with snowballs."

He pretends not to hear Jensen laughing at him as he starts his truck and cranks the stereo. There's just something wrong with someone who doesn't comprehend the magic that is the first snow of the season.

~~~~~

It's snowing – honest-to-goodness _snowing_ \-- by the time Jared pulls into his driveway with Jensen right behind him. He pulls on into the garage and waits for Jensen to get out of his car, waving him toward the garage, then hitting the door remote to close it behind them. "C'mon, we'll go in this way."

The scent of slow-cooked chili slams into him as soon as Jared opens the door, and his stomach rumbles loudly in response. Behind him he hears Jensen taking in deep breaths, and feels a tug of amusement and happiness that someone else is clearly anticipating the goodness that is chili.

"That smells pretty damn awesome," Jensen starts, and then they're interrupted by Harley and Sadie bounding down the stairs, barking and slobbering all over the place.

Jared just barely resists the urge to shout "incoming!" and tries to head the dogs off before they can pounce on Jensen. They're sneaky though (in a totally not-sneaky way), and there's a new human in the house, and Harley's up in Jensen's face, licking him, before Jared can get at him.

"Down, dogs! Down! You're gonna scare Jensen away and he's never gonna—for God's sake, Harley, get your face outta there—"

"Jared, it's okay. They just want to get to know me, right guys?" He's petting all over Sadie, rubbing her head and her flank, and Harley crowds right in, barking and drooling, until Jensen has no choice but to pet him, too.

"You guys suck," Jared tells his dogs and gestures toward the stairs. "Well, this is the basement – one of these days I'm going to get a pool table and set it up down here. Right now it's just where I work out," he points to the gym equipment set in one corner, "and where I banish the dogs if I have someone over who's allergic, or whatever. There's a door at the top of the stairs," he adds, when Jensen cocks an eyebrow.

They head up the stairs, dogs weaving around their legs, and Jared thinks it's a miracle they don't all crash and tumble down the stairs in a huge pile of human and dog limbs. The scent of chili is nearly overwhelming in the kitchen, but Jared stops at the sliding door to let the dogs outside. They go slip-sliding across the deck and down the steps, barking and jumping at the snowflakes still falling heavily.

"They're idiots, but I love 'em." Jared watches the dogs chasing the falling snow for a few moments, then claps his hands together. "So! Tour of the house? Chili? Video games? Beer?"

"I could stand to use the bathroom," Jensen says, "and I wouldn't say no to a beer, chili and video games, in that order."

"Bathroom. We can do that. I'll give you the twenty-five cent tour, instead of the fifty cent one."

"I think I feel my heart breaking." 

"Band-Aids are on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet." Jared gestures for Jensen to go in front of him. "Hall bath – there's a half-bath down in the basement, too. Well, three-quarters? I guess? It has a shower stall, but no tub. Anyway, bathroom here, master bedroom at the end of the hall, and I have a bathroom there, too, second bedroom, third tiny bedroom I use as an office, and voila, living room."

"Nice house," Jensen says, and Jared's glad he actually got around to picking up a little at some point during the week. Not that he thinks Jensen would be put off by some damp towels or dirty socks, but it's the principle of the matter.

"Thanks. I like it." He looks around, trying to see it through someone else's eyes, then decides it really doesn't matter. It's _his_ house, he likes it a lot, and that's the important thing. "So, bathroom," Jared points, "and I'll go dish up some chili and beer."

"Sounds like a plan." Jensen disappears into the bathroom, and Jared wills himself to turn away from the door and not stand there, listening, like a stalker might do.

~~~~~

Dinner is huge bowls of chili, with all the trimmings: shredded cheese, chopped green onions, sour cream, and tortilla chips Jared gets from an authentic Mexican restaurant downtown near the police building. They debate the merits of the Cowboys versus the Broncos, and while both of them feel compelled to cheer for the Broncs if they make it to the playoffs, they're both Cowboys fans in their hearts.

Basketball is totally different, and they argue good naturedly over who is better, the Spurs or the Mavericks, and which is better, college ball or pro ball. 

By the time they've finished eating they've moved on to which is the better set of Star Wars trilogies, the first, original one, or the second and who is more badass, Darth Maul or Darth Vader. Dessert is brownies Jared made two nights ago (he's kind of surprised he still has some left, because hello, _brownies_ ) and a discussion of what's good on TV right now.

"So how long you been working in the property room?" Jensen's sprawled out on Jared's couch, dinner over and three empty beer bottles standing on the end table nearest to him. He's cradling number four between his hands, resting it on his thigh, and it's all Jared can do not to stare.

He has a feeling just thinking about Jensen is going to provide ample jerk-off material for a while.

"Um…going on six years. I think." His head feels a little too big and too fuzzy right now, and ordinarily he'd be surprised because usually he can hold his liquor better than that—but not tonight, apparently. "I was goin' to school full-time, during the day, but none of the jobs I could get paid enough. Even with grants and scholarships and shit, I still had to pay rent and buy groceries, so I decided to switch to night school and the Boulder PD was hiring."

"You see yourself making a career there?" Jensen's eyes look a little unfocused, and Jared thinks it's probably good they didn't actually make it to the video games, because he's pretty sure neither of them could manage anything resembling coordination right now.

"Nah, not really." He drains the last of his beer and settles back into his chair. "I mean, it's fine, and most of the time it's interesting, and I got pretty good coworkers. I don't hate it, even when people bring in gross stuff like movies of men fucking their own kids." He raises an eyebrow at Jensen, who just shrugs. "But it's not what I want to _do_. I'm—I got a book I'm working on. That's, I got my degree in writing, and I'd like to get published. Did a few short stories, stuff like that. Y'know? But I'm working on a novel."

"Yeah? That's pretty awesome, man." Jensen raises his beer bottle toward Jared in a toast, then drains his and sets the bottle beside the others, and belches. "Oh, hell, I think 'm drunk."

Jared giggles. "Me too."

"Lightweights, the both of us."

"Uh-huh." Jared contemplates that for a minute and shakes his head. "I dunno what happened. Usually I can hold it better'n this."

"Maybe you're tired?" Jensen looks like he's about asleep, himself, and Jared nods. 

"I am."

"Me too." His eyes close, and holy cow, he's pretty. Jared sighs, wishing he didn't do this, crush on straight guys. It never ends well – for him, anyway – and he honestly likes Jensen; wants him as a friend. One eye opens, and Jensen looks blearily at Jared. "C'n I borrow your couch for a little while?" 

"Sure, man. Or you can sleep in the guest room. Bed's all made up."

"Dunno if I can move."

"You'll be a lot comfier in the bed." 

"This is fine," Jensen insists, shifting until he's laying down, which mostly consists of sliding sideways. It's kind of funny to watch. "I'll sleep a bit, an' then go home."

"Okay. But you can stay as long as you need to." Jared makes himself get up and drag over to the linen closet so he can get a blanket out. At least Jensen can have that, if he won't go sleep in the other bed. 

He turns the lights out and drapes the blanket over Jensen, smiling when Jensen snuffles in his sleep and curls deeper into the couch.

"Sleep tight," he whispers, then makes his way to his bedroom, dogs plodding along behind him.

~~~~~

It's light in his room when Jared wakes up, helped into consciousness by Harley head-butting his hand and drooling on him. His head pounds in tempo with his heartbeat, and Jared wishes he could burrow back under the covers, rather than having to get up and open up the door for the dogs. He's momentarily blinded by the blanket of white covering the ground outside when he pads into the kitchen to let the dogs out, and it isn't until he sees the dishes stacked in the sink and the beer bottles on the counter beside that he remembers Jensen sleeping on his couch last night.

He's not surprised to find the couch empty, the blanket folded up neatly and placed at one end. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised.

His cell rings about a minute later, and Jensen's voice, morning-rough and raspy, comes through clearly. "Did you survive the night?"

"Barely." Jared grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and figures he'll drink that and go back to bed for a while. Coffee can wait until later. "I didn't hear you go--what time did you leave?"

There's a moment of silence, then Jensen says, "about an hour ago. I think."

"An hour? Why the hell didn't you just hang around? I would've fixed you breakfast."

"I think I infringed on you enough last night." Jensen sounds odd; if Jared knew him better he'd maybe say embarrassed, but it could be anything, really.

"Pffft. I offered. And hey, I never got to kick your ass at Guitar Hero."

That gets him a sharp bark of laughter. "Pretty confident in yourself, aren't you?"

"You'll have to play me and see why." Jared chugs half the bottle of water while Jensen mutters in the background. "Come over this afternoon, and we'll play. Pizza for dinner, and no beer."

"But I _like_ the beer. Why is all the beer gone?"

It hurts his head to laugh, but Jared does it anyway. "Captain Jack Sparrow you're not."

"There you go, breaking my heart again." There's a pause, and Jared counts the throbbing beats in his head while he waits, and then Jensen says, "you serious? About the video games?"

"Hell, yeah. The only competition I get is from Chad, and he's no competition at all." He licks at a drop of water on his thumb. "I liked hanging with you, man. I had a good time last night, just talking and shit. I figure video games oughta be awesome."

Jensen snorts in his ear. "Simple minds, simple pleasures?"

"Heh. Something like that, yeah."

"What time?"

Jared eyes the clock and considers his plan to nap a while longer. "Say, four? Or five?"

"Five's better for me; got some stuff I need to get done today."

"Work stuff?" 

"Nah." Jensen yawns, and it triggers a yawn from Jared. "Stuff like a nap."

"The important things in life, man." Jared yawns again and his jaw pops. "Ow. I'm going back to bed for a while, too. See you about five."

"Will do. Sleep well, dude."

"You, too."

Jared clicks his phone off, finishes up his water, and lets the dogs back in. They track snow all over the kitchen while they wait impatiently for him to fill their food and water bowls, and after Jared steps in a small, _cold_ puddle of water for the third time he writes himself a note to bring a towel up from the laundry room to leave by the door. Time to start wiping the dogs' feet off again when they come inside.

He leaves Harley and Sadie to wolf down their food and heads back to his room. After a quick trip to the john Jared's back in bed, settling back into the warmth of flannel sheets and a down comforter, sliding into dreams of green eyes and freckles.

~~~~~

It's a full house on Monday morning when Jared sails into the office. Late-watch is still there, and Chad's got an officer at the window, plus two more waiting behind: Charlie Baker from CSU, and what looks to be a rookie officer behind him. Jared wonders where the rookie's FTO is, or if he's graduated to doing a beat on his own. He looks uncertain and so young, and Jared wonders when he started looking at the rookies and feeling old.

"Homicide last night," Charlie tells him, when Jared opens the door to let the first one in line give him the property to put up. 

"Ugh. Happy Thanksgiving." Jared sets the gun and envelopes down on the nearest cart. "Is there more coming in?"

"Don't think so. Jon and Amanda had the first batch," Charlie gestures to the other cart, full of bags and envelopes. "This is just what's left."

"Did you run the gun through NCIC? Any hits?"

"Yes, and no. And the chamber's clear; I checked before bringing it down."

"Awesome, dude, thanks. So am I just adding this to the case number y'all already have?"

"Uh." Charlie pauses, chewing on his lip, then nods. "Yeah. Easier to track, that way."

"Got it."

It's weirdly busy for so early on a Monday, but Jared prefers being busy to sitting around waiting to see bits of the paint peeling off the ceiling. By the time he's got the rest of the CSU stuff entered and put up, late-watch has cleared out, and Chad's collapsed at his desk with a bottle of Mountain Dew.

"Morning!" Jared tells him, saluting him with his mug of coffee. "What a way to start the week."

"I should've taken today and tomorrow off," Chad mutters, blinking at Jared. "Dude, did you get laid over the weekend, or something? You're in an awfully good mood."

Jared rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Last Monday you dissed me for being grumpy; this morning I'm too cheerful. Make up your fucking mind."

"Last Monday you _were_ grumpy. You acted like your best friend died. And since I'm still very much alive and well – and was last Monday, too, well. It's weird. Kind of like you." 

"Pot, kettle," Jared murmurs into his mug. "Anyway, not that it's any of your business, but no, I didn't get laid. Or something. Pretty quiet weekend, actually. Hung out, played some Guitar Hero, played with the dogs, considered adding _Torchwood_ to my DVD collection."

"Torchwood?" Chad screws up his face in what's probably meant to be a thoughtful expression, but which actually just makes him look constipated. "What's that?"

"A spin-off from Dr. Who. Has a hottie as one of the main characters – a hottie who kisses other guys onscreen."

"Oh, god, spare me." Chad sighs when the bell dings, flipping Jared off over his shoulder when Jared says, "what, you can send me porn sites, but I can't tell you about gay television?"

"If y'all can watch porn at work, I need to transfer down to the property room." 

Jared's kind of shocked to hear Jensen's voice, and he looks up and grins. "What, you didn't get your ass kicked enough this weekend?"

"Beginner's luck. I was duped with pizza and Pepsi, and I demand a rematch."

"Bring it on, bitch," Jared says, smirking. "After we play again, you gonna man up and admit I'm a better player than you?"

"Hell will freeze over, first." Jensen quirks an eyebrow at Jared. "But we definitely need a rematch at some point."

"Whenever, man. Just let me know."

Chad clears his throat, sending Jared a clear _what the fuck?_ look, and says, "Whatcha need, man? Besides a rematch?"

Jensen snorts. "To win the lottery. In lieu of that, I sent in a check-out request last week for some stuff I wanted to pick up today."

"You got it, my man." Chad opens the door and gestures Jensen into the main room. "Might as well come in where it's marginally warmer."

"It's really just a figment of our imagination," Jared says, opening his email. He hasn't even gotten a chance to log all the way in, yet.

"So, the rematch." Jensen's leaning against the checkout counter, and Jared determinedly keeps his eyes on his monitor, and not on the fabulousness of Jensen in jeans and a sweater. He thinks it's probably a good thing he's never seen Jensen in his Class A's, or he might spontaneously combust.

"Yeah?" 

"We could do it at my place, if you wanted. After work, today? I'm just a couple blocks from here."

"Convenient." Jared nods, and chances a look up. "I couldn't stay real late; have to get home and let the dogs out. But yeah, for a while." He grins at Jensen. "You want the home court advantage, don't you?"

"Absolutely." The way Jensen's eyes crinkle when he smiles makes Jared want to smile. And kiss him. God, stupid crush.

"Then you're on." 

"I'll email you directions, dude. You're in Outlook, right?"

"Yep."

"Awesome." Jensen fidgets with the hem of his sweater, picking and tugging until Jared wants to grab his hands and tell him to stop. He's saved from doing just that by Chad returning with a cart of stuff, a look of distaste on his face.

"Kiddie porn freaks are the worst," he announces to the room at large, and neither Jared nor Jensen disagrees with him.

~~~~~

Jensen's apartment is easy to find. Jared parks next to Jensen's unmarked cruiser then takes the stairs two at a time, excitement fluttering in his stomach.

He's just raised his hand to knock on 2B when the door opens.

"Heard you coming," Jensen says with a small smile. He looks a little damp, the collar of his t-shirt has wet spots, and Jared realizes Jensen must've just gotten out of the shower. He shoves the images of a wet, naked Jensen into a little corner of his mind and locks it up tight. 

"I don't do stealthy very well except in digital. Too big. Soon as I try to sneak around, I trip over my feet." Jared follows Jensen in, looking around the room with interest.

"Have a seat, I'll get us something to drink."

"Beer?" It's been a long, busy day, and sure, he still has to drive home, but one beer won't hurt.

"Yep. Unlike _some_ people I won't name, I won't make you subsist on just soda."

"Dude. We didn't need to get wasted two nights in a row. I gave that up back in college." Jared sees Jensen's smile, though, and knows he's teasing. At least, he thinks he knows. 

Jensen's apartment is smaller than his house, but still a good-sized place. The living room has a fireplace and Jensen's got big, comfy-looking furniture, and a large-screen television placed just so he can enjoy both that and a fire at the same time.

Where Jared's furniture is kind of a hodge-podge, Jensen's matches, right down to the table lamps. It's not prissy or stuffy, though, and Jared doesn't have any qualms about tossing himself down on the nearest couch and rubbing a hand thoughtfully over the microsuede. "I'd wondered if this stuff was comfortable."

"I really like it," Jensen says, coming in with two bottles dangling from one hand, and a big bowl of popcorn in the other. 

"Oh, food!" Jared takes the bowl from Jensen, then one of the beers, setting them both on the coffee table in front of him. "A man after my own heart."

"I'm trying to figure out if I've ever seen you without food," Jensen says, rummaging around in one of the table's drawers. "I don't think I have."

"Probably not. I like to eat."

"Yeah, got that, thanks. A-ha." Jensen pulls game controllers and the TV remote out of the drawer, and gives Jared a look. "What I can't figure is, where do you put it all? I mean, yeah, you're like Gigantor or something, but seriously. You should weigh about seven hundred pounds."

Jared flexes his arms, and drawls, "it's all muscle, baby," then flushes. "Um--"

Jensen's snickering, though, so Jared figures he didn't cross over any lines. "You're a freak, y'know that?"

"Yeah, but a loveable freak." Well, shit. Jared flinches a little, waiting for Jensen to freak out, or…something. Maybe he should just stop talking for the rest of the afternoon, since obviously the link between his brain and his mouth got disconnected at some point. Jensen's kind of non-reacting, though, so maybe, again, all is well. And when in doubt, go for distraction. "Okay, fire up the game so I can kick your ass again."

Jensen just shakes his head. "We'll see who gets whose ass kicked, Jay, and it ain't gonna be me."

"Bring it on, man. Bring it on."

There's a lot of shouting and trash-talking while they play, and since they're sitting side-by-side, arms bumping occasionally as they furiously work the controllers. Jared's winning, but the game -- and the winner -- can change at any time, so he's not going to take anything for granted.

He keeps getting distracted by how good Jensen smells. It's clean and sharp, just a hint of musk in it, and Jared wants to lean over and just nuzzle Jensen's neck, and that spot where his shoulder and neck meet. He wants to nuzzle, and lick, and bite. Maybe put a hickey there, some kind of mark to say _property of Jared Padalecki_. 

"Hah, gotcha! Now who's kicked whose ass?"

Jared tunes back into the game just in time to see his guy dying a swift, violent death. He pummels his controller mercilessly, but it's too late. "Son-of-a--"

He's just gearing up for some _serious_ cussing when there's a knock on Jensen's door.

He totally ignores Jensen's little dance of victory on the way to answering it, and tells himself he's not sulking, not at all.

"Hey, Mrs. Klein. Is everything okay?"

Jared turns around to see an elderly woman standing in the doorway, frown on her face. When she sees Jared, the worry lines deepen, and when she speaks she seems genuinely unhappy that she's standing there.

"Detective, I hate to bother you when you're off-duty, especially when it looks as though you have company over--"

Jensen shakes his head with a small smile. "One of the reasons I live here, ma'am. You all know you can knock any time. Come in, please. Jay, can you pause the game?"

"Sure." He hits the pause button and scoots over on the couch as Jensen helps Mrs. Klein to sit down. "You want me to take off?"

"Nah. Not yet. What's up, Mrs. Klein? Is something wrong with Mr. Klein?"

"Oh, heavens, no." She frowns again, worry lines creasing her face, and Jared's reminded of his grandmother; wishes she were still alive so he could hug her. "I saw someone walking around the building, looking at it. Looking like they were checking out doors and windows."

"Someone checking--are you sure it wasn't the guy who comes to read the meters?"

"No, Detective. This…person…I know the meter man. I've never seen this person before. Well, no, that's not entirely true. I saw him several days ago, and just assumed he was looking for a particular apartment. But today he was walking around -- skulking around. Up to no good, I'm certain."

Jensen nods. "I'll take a look around the building, see if I see anything."

"Oh, thank you, Detective. I worry more this time of year, you know, people breaking in to steal Christmas presents and the like." She glances between Jensen and Jared, and sighs. "I do apologize for interrupting. Mr. Klein thinks I worry too much, but you just never know."

"Don't worry about knocking -- any time you need me. Jay, d'you mind hanging here by yourself while I go take a look around? You can finish off the popcorn." Jared shrugs and shakes his head.

"I don't mind, but I could go with you." Jensen hesitates, and Mrs. Klein gives Jared a once-over that makes him want to squirm with embarrassment. "Dude, I know I'm not a cop. But two pairs of eyes are always better than one, right?"

He's still hesitating; Jared feels it coming off Jensen in waves, but then Jensen surprises him and nods. "Sure. Just--be careful. Okay?" He waits for Jared to nod before looking at Mrs. Klein. "We'll walk you back to your door, first, then take a look around the building. I'll stop by when we're done."

"Thank you," she says again, and Jared hears the relief in her voice.

They escort her to her apartment, and wait until she's inside with the locks clicking behind her before setting off. Jared kicks at a small pile of leaves near the stairwell, dry and crumbly beneath the bits of snow still lingering, and wonders if there's someone lurking nearby, watching them. "Do you think she really saw someone?"

Jensen shrugs and zips his jacket up further as the wind kicks up. "We do get a lot of break-ins in this area, and Mrs. Klein is right, this time of year is worse. It's part of the reason I took the apartment -- having a cop living visibly in the neighborhood does help cut down on crime. Or that's the theory, anyway."

"Free rent doesn't hurt either," Jared says, bumping his shoulder into Jensen's.

"No, it doesn't, and that was the appeal ten years ago, but now…." He shrugs. "I know everyone in the complex, and we don't get a lot of turn-over. Most of the tenants are older, which tends to make them more of a target, and it makes them rest easier, having me here."

They've walked one full side of the building, and found nothing. Or at least, nothing Jared can see. "You ever get someone knocking on your door in the middle of the night?"

"Sometimes." Jensen directs Jared back behind the building, and oh, yeah. Here are some footprints in the remaining snow and muddy, soggy ground. "Not often."

"Ever get a knock when you were in the middle of--something?"

Jensen crouches down and uses a twig to poke at a couple of cigarette butts, and when he looks up at Jared there's something in his eyes Jared can't identify. "A couple of times, yeah."

"Man, that would suck."

"It did. But I've been called out on official business in the middle of—things—too." He stands up, brushing dirt off his knees. "Well, someone's been hanging around here, but it could've just been someone stopping for a smoke as easily as someone casing the place. Either way, it doesn't look like anyone's around now."

"So now what?"

"Now I go inside and call in to the division station and ask 'em to send a squad car by, make a more visible presence. Hopefully it'll discourage anyone from trying anything."

"You're never completely off-duty, are you?" They continue on across the back of the building, making a full circuit, but nothing else turns up. The sun is just about down, and it's a lot colder now than it was just a little while ago.

"Only when I physically leave Boulder."

"That would kind of suck, really." Jared's certain he wouldn't enjoy having a job where he was more-or-less on-duty, even when he was off-duty.

"Eh." Jensen shrugs. "It's not so bad." He gives Jared a smile. "I got that cool badge and gun thing going for me."

"And don't forget the taser." Those are wicked cool, in Jared's opinion. 

"Tech toys." Jensen bumps his shoulder against Jared's. "It's after five. You wanna get something to eat?"

"I have to go home and let the dogs out," Jared reminds him. "Gotta do laundry and stuff, too. Funny how I didn't get much done this weekend."

"Isn't it?" Jensen stops at the front of the building, and in the dimming light of late-autumn evening, he's absolutely gorgeous. Jared isn't sure if it's the angle, or lighting (or lack of), or what, but he actually finds himself leaning forward before realizing he's doing it. He bites his lip and wishes he didn't need to get home. That he could stay and hang out with Jensen for the rest of the night. That he'd get invited to stay the night.

_Oh, my God, I might as well be asking him if he wants to have a sleepover and do each other's hair._

Jared sighs. "If I don't see you again until after, have a good Thanksgiving, man. Eat lots of turkey."

"I plan to," Jensen says, and for a second he seems closer, like he's swayed or shifted, or _something_. He's looking at Jared, eyes searching his face, and Jared wishes he could read minds. Wishes he knew what Jensen was thinking. "Take care. Drive safe."

"Yeah, man. See ya."

Harley and Sadie better appreciate him coming home to feed them, and let them out, and play with them.

~~~~~

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: BORED

Okay, isn't anybody working today? It's noon, and we've had exactly two officers in since shift change. Sandy's showed me all her vacation pictures, and talked about seeing her friends from college, and made me jealous I didn't get to go to Cancun, but now I'm bored. Entertain me.

\---

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: Re: BORED

Entertain you? What am I, a clown? Dude, seriously. 

Tell you what—I'll come down there and sit and be bored for you, and then you can come to my office and do paperwork. How's that sound?

\---

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: Re: BORED

My whole life is paperwork, Jen. That's not much of a trade-off.

Knew I should've brought DVDs in to watch today. It's a sad, sad day when you can't count on your friends to keep you smiling. :P

What's the 'R' in your name stand for?

\---

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: Re: BORED

The R is for Ross, my middle name, and you should be smiling because your shift is almost over, isn't it? I know I am.

Tell me something about you.

\---

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: Re: BORED

Hey, who's entertaining who, here? 

I'm not off for awhile, yet. Working a double shift today, because Mike's sick. 

My middle name is Tristan. When I was a kid, my mom used to call me JT. My older brother told me it stood for "justifies torture". 

Your turn.

\---

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: fun stuff to know about me

"Justifies Torture"? Hah!

Consider it mutual entertainment, because it's boring as hell here, too. I hate paperwork. Also, I would really hate working a double shift. Are you nuts? You know Mikey's faking it. Has to be. Who gets sick the day before Thanksgiving and is really sick?

My highest score ever on PacMan was 314,460. I suck at bowling, and I like golf. Someday, I'd like to go to Cancun, myself.

\---

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: Re: fun stuff to know about me

I don't think I could deal with the paperwork you deal with. The freaks who like kids? I'd want to go out and commit some sort of vigilantism. (OH! Have you ever read the comic "Bloom County"? It's an older one, from like, the 80's. And there's this penguin in it, his name is Opus. And he's…he's a trip. I love Opus. Anyway, there's one comic strip series, or whatever, where Opus gets picked on by a Mime, and he goes all vigilante on him, and ends up beating him up or maybe killing him, I can't remember, with a loaf of pickle pimento lunchmeat. It's funny.)

I love bowling, but I kind of suck at it, too—not coordinated enough, or something. But it's fun with the bumper rails in! Golf bores me to death, but I've played it before. Um. If miniature golf counts?

I think he's really sick. He sounded pretty pathetic on the phone, voice all hoarse and rough. I'd rather work a double now than have him come in and spread disease everywhere.

Where do you play PacMan? Do you have it on PS2 or something?

I'm 6'5" and wear a size 15EE shoe. 

Do you have brothers or sisters?

\---

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: Re: fun stuff to know about me

You email exactly like you talk. I'm pretty sure you're ADD, or something. Wow. No, I don't think I've ever heard of Bloom County. It sounds pretty weird. A penguin who attacks Mimes? Like, the kind of mimes that do street stuff and don't talk? Very weird.

I play PacMan online. And you're huge. Seriously, why aren't you playing basketball and making millions?

I have an older brother and a younger sister. I don't see either of them very often. You have any sibs other than the older brother who was into younger brother torture? :)

\---

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: Re: fun stuff to know about me

Bloom County is AWESOME. I'll loan you my books.

I played basketball when I was in high school, but I didn't ever want to go pro. I know I told you I majored in writing, that I want to publish some day. I'm working on a book now, about these two guys who hunt monsters – like scary, make-believe stuff, urban legends, stuff like that. 

I have my older brother, and I have a younger sister. I miss them. Wish I could see them this year for the holidays, but everyone's got plans (my brother's married, so he has in-law stuff, and Megan's meeting her boyfriend's family and mom and dad are going on a cruise). Guess there's always next year.

Why don't you see them very often?

\---

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 22, 2006  
Subject: more later

It's complicated. I'll tell you later. 

Call coming in, I have to go.

\---

Jared sighs at the very short, kind of terse email and wishes he hadn't asked. He knew even before he typed it up that it wasn't a good idea, but he did it anyway, and now look what happened. He wonders if there's really even a call, and considers dialing Jensen's cell, then discards it. Jensen will tell him when he's ready. Just because Jared doesn't mind blurting out everything about himself to anyone who wants to listen doesn't mean Jensen's that way, too. In fact, all evidence points to the contrary.

So he'll wait.

~~~~~

It's just past eight-thirty and Jared's had something like eleventy-billion officers come by in the last hour and a half. It looks like it's sleeting outside, and on top of everything else, he forgot to grab something to eat for dinner.

His stomach grumbles again, loudly, that it's unhappy with the present state of affairs. He's ransacked his desk for anything edible, and all he turned up was a package of beef ramen that looked pretty dubious. He's not sure if ramen has an expiry date, but if it does, this package has passed it and then some.

His locker doesn't yield much, either; a package of peanut-butter crackers, a bag of mummified gummy worms (and really, how long do gummy anythings have to be around to get mummified? Yikes.) and a box of hot chocolate mix. Not exactly anything that's going to fill him up. Dammit.

The bell rings and Jared considers ripping it out of the wall and disappearing down the hallway. He's hungry and tired, and really not in the mood, considering the last two officers he waited on had fucked up their intake vouchers to hell and back, which meant he had to walk them through correcting the voucher errors. He's halfway up to the counter when he realizes the guy on the other side of the intake window is Jensen, and he's holding up a big McDonald's bag in one hand and a cup-carrier in the other.

"Oh, my god, I think I love you," Jared says when he pushes the door open to let Jensen in. He closes his eyes in embarrassment and wishes he could sink through the floor, but Jensen only laughs and hands over the bag. 

"Hungry?" is all Jensen says, following Jared back to his desk.

"You don't even know. I realized about seven that I'd forgotten to grab anything for dinner, and Jim left out of here about six-thirty, so that screwed my chances of going to get anything all to hell." Jared makes a little whimper of pleasure as he settles at his desk and unwraps a double quarter-pounder with cheese. There are fries in the bag, too, and a burger for Jensen, and chocolate shakes. God, it's like heaven.

"I figured even if you'd already had dinner you probably wouldn't say no, but I'm glad this is like an errand of mercy." Jensen unwraps his burger and grabs a handful of fries out of the bag as Jared shoves a handful into his mouth.

"Mmmf." Jared finishes chewing and swallows, then tries words again. "It really, really is. Thank you." 

For a little while there's no other conversation, just the sound of the two of them eating. Jared sucks down his shake in no time flat, and Jensen probably doesn't get many of the French fries, because Jared grabs them out of the bag by the handful. He leans back in his chair when he's finished, stomach nicely content (though he could easily eat another burger, but he's not going to tell Jensen that) and quiet again.

"My family disapproves of some choices I've made in my life, and they're pretty vocal about it, so I don't go around much. I hear from my sister once in a while – she's the only one who will actually call me – but it's awkward for her, because our folks are really uptight about things, and they pile the guilt on her for talking to me."

The words come out evenly, and Jensen doesn't rush through them or sound angry, or even really sad. Resigned, maybe, and Jared suspects this is not a recent development; that Jensen's had a while to get resigned.

"Is it—" He swallows, not sure what he wants to ask. Well, no, that's not true, because he knows what he _wants_ to ask. He just doesn't think he should. "What is it they disapprove of?"

Jensen shakes his head. "It's a combination of several things: the company I keep, the job I chose, the fact I don't go to church, that I don't follow their beliefs."

So, not gay. Jared aches for Jensen – and wants to thump his family, because what the hell? Seriously. But it makes him sad for _himself_ , too, because this is going to be another one of those crushes on a straight boy that go nowhere, and one would think by this time in his life that Jared's gaydar would be tuned a little better.

"I'm sorry, man," he says, when it becomes obvious Jensen isn't going to say any more. "Would it help if I said they suck ass?"

Jensen snorts. "Nah. This is old stuff, and honestly, part of the reason I ended up here. Chris, a good buddy of mine, came up here. He's the one I crashed with when I got stranded, and he let me stay with him while I was figuring things out, going to school, all that stuff. He came to my graduation from the Academy—hey!"

"What?" Jared looks around, wondering if Jensen's seen something he should be seeing. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong, but—do you have plans for Thanksgiving? For dinner?"

Jared gives him a rueful smile. "Just some frozen dinners, probably. Chad said I could come have dinner with him and Sophia, but I think I'll just go home and nuke something, then watch whatever game's on."

"Well, you have an invite to Chris's for dinner, now. He does a turkey in the outdoor smoker thing, and all kinds of good stuff. His girlfriend makes an awesome pumpkin cheesecake, and another friend of ours is coming—so you should come. Say you'll think about it?" There's a flush along Jensen's cheekbones, and Jared's entranced by it. He wonders if he could count the freckles on Jensen's cheeks, or his nose. 

Wonders if he has freckles everywhere, and squashes that thought down.

"Um, are you sure your friends won't mind?" He doesn't want to cause any friction, or make things rough for Jensen, bringing a surprise guest along.

"Positive." Jensen flashes him a smile that lights up his whole face. "Chris will like you. He's a little rough around the edges, but he's a good guy. And he's probably read Bloom County." He pauses, eyes going a little unfocused. "Do you mind leaving your truck here? I can come get you and we can ride together, so I don't have to try and figure out how to explain to you how to find his place."

"Yeah, that's not a problem. Couldn't be safer than in a police parking garage, could it?" 

"Probably not." Jensen jiggles his leg over and over, and Jared thinks he's going to have to sit on his own hands to keep from clamping them down on Jensen's thigh. He wonders what has him so twitchy.

"Should I bring anything? Rolls? Salad? Something with a side of dog hair?"

"Ew." The distaste evident on Jensen's face is pretty amusing, actually, and Jared's just opening up his mouth to add to that when Jensen shakes his head. "Nah. Everything's already taken care of. You just need to show up and shovel it in."

"Definitely not a problem." The clock is inching its way slowly toward ten and Jared realizes the last hour has sped by. Or else Jensen's an alien of some sort, stealing time from him. That thought makes him think of people who claim to have been abducted by aliens, and probed in places you don't normally want to be probed in, except if Jensen wanted to probe him, Jared would absolutely be okay with that. Or he could be the prober. That would totally work. Bend Jensen over, pull his jeans down and just—

"Jared?" There's a hand waving in front of his face.

"Huh? What?"

"You kind of zoned out for a minute. You okay?"

He's grateful he's sitting behind his desk and Jensen's on the other side of it, because his dick's also very happy with the idea of probing Jensen, and wow, this is awkward.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. That ADD thing, I was thinking about losing time, and alien abductions."

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "O…kay."

Jared's saved having to say anything else – because really, what could he say? – by the bell dinging. He really doesn't want to get up, hello, half-stiffie, and then a hand snakes around the corner to grab the keys, and Sera's walking in the door, shaking her head and sending moisture flying everywhere.

"It's fucking _raining_ out there, now," she starts, then stops and grins. "Jensen! Haven't seen you in a while, honey."

"Hey, Sera. They switched my shift again. More-or-less day shift."

She rolls her eyes. "Figures. Glad to see you again, though. You behaving yourself?"

"Always." 

That gets him a snort. "As if I even believe that. Jared, I'm here, if you want to go ahead and go."

"Really?"

She nods, then shakes her coat out vigorously, sending more water spraying around. "Go on, kiddo. Have a good rest of your night."

"Awesome. Thanks, Sera, you're a doll." Jared pulls his hoodie back on, then zips his jacket up over it, and wonders what the hell he did with his cap. "Jen, what time tomorrow?" The shortened form of Jensen's name kind of slips out, but Jensen doesn't even blink. 

"You get off at two-thirty, right?"

"Yep." A quick check of his desk, then Jared slings his backpack over his shoulder, waves at Sera, and starts toward the door. Freedom is only a few feet away.

Jensen calls over his shoulder, "Bye, Sera," and follows Jared through the door. "I'll be here when you finish your shift. Unless you want me to get you at your house, so you can let the dogs out and stuff?"

"Hmm." Hell, Sera was right, it's pouring down rain. Figures, because he's out in the lot, and not in the garage. "Yeah, you know, let's do that. They'd probably be okay, but better safe than sorry."

"Why don't you put in a doggie door, so they can go in and out as they need to?" Jensen sounds really puzzled.

"Because a doggie door big enough for them would also be big enough for a small-sized person, and I'd rather not take that chance."

"Gotcha." Jensen eyes the water pelting down and sighs. "Great night for ducks."

"Uh-huh." It's going to be fucking _cold_ , too. Jared knows this sure as he knows his name. "Well, see you tomorrow," he says, and tugs his hood up over his head. Jensen nods.

"Tomorrow."

~~~~~

Thanksgiving – as with most of the major holidays – is pretty much known in the property room as an official slack-off day. No supervisors, closed to the public, hardly any officer activity.

Sandy brings homemade cinnamon rolls in, and Jared brings a gallon of milk. It's a ritual they've had since Sandy started three years ago, because it's usually just the two of them working on Thanksgiving. Chad might be his best friend, but Sandy's right up there, fun and interesting to hang with, and they always have a good time when they work the holiday shifts together.

"You look pretty chipper for someone who worked a double yesterday," Sandy tells Jared when he comes in, whistling tunelessly. "What's up?"

"Nothing's up. Just in a good mood, is all." He looms over Sandy's desk, inhaling the cinnamon-y scent, smiling when he exhales. "They're still warm, aren't they?"

"They are. But I'm gonna withhold unless you tell me what has you so happy." She actually pulls the foil-covered package toward her, and Jared scowls.

"Blackmail is really unbecoming, Sandy, and it's nothing big. I have dinner plans today, and I'm looking forward to them. That's all."

"You do?" Sandy pushes the pan back toward Jared, frowning. "Last I heard, you were going to go home and microwave some frozen dinners, do some writing, and ignore the holiday."

"That was the plan, yeah." The cinnamon rolls are like a work of art, warm and soft, icing dripping over his fingers. Jared bites into one, and mumbles around the burst of warm dough and cinnamon, "Jensen asked me to come to dinner with him."

Sandy blinks at him, then says, "Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting." Jared waits a beat, chewing patiently, and smiles around his roll when what he said really registers. "Jensen? The officer from CACU? The Jensen you talked about non-stop yesterday? Asked you on a _date_ for Thanksgiving dinner?"

"It's not a date," Jared says, automatically. "Far as I can tell, he's straight as a ruler."

Sandy raises an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound straight from what you've said." She pours them both big glasses of milk, and takes a roll for herself. "And anyway," gesturing toward Jared with the roll, "you're not straight. You have it bad for this guy, don't you?"

He doesn't want to admit it, because if he says it out loud, it makes it real. Right now, if he doesn't say anything at all about his feelings for Jensen, he can continue to pretend it's just that he's happy to have made a new friend, one he has a lot in common with. 

Jared's always been good with denial, but this time he doesn't want to be. He wants Jensen as a friend, yeah, but as so much more than that, too. 

"Yeah," he says finally, meeting Sandy's eyes. "I really do."

Dammit. 

He shoves half a cinnamon roll into his mouth and tries to tell himself he's not watching the clock inch forward glacially; that he's not counting the minutes until he goes home and Jensen picks him up to go to dinner.

Maybe he's not as good at denial as he thought he was.

~~~~~

Chris, it turns out, doesn't actually live in Boulder; he's out west of the city, heading toward Estes Park and into the foothills.

The day is clear and bright, sun slanting downward and gleaming off the puddles left from last night's rain, and the snowcaps shining from the higher peaks.

"This," Jared gestures toward the window. "This is why I love Colorado. I mean, Texas is great—it's _Texas_ , y'know. But the snow up on the mountains, the way everything's so clear. It's gorgeous, and I love it."

"Yeah." Jensen says the word softly. "I know what you mean. I love it, too. And it's home in a way Texas won't ever be."

Dammit. Jared wants to bite his tongue off, or pull the words back, or something. But Jensen's not frowning or anything; he's just kind of quiet – though Jared's starting to figure out that's his default. 

Unlike Jared, who loves to talk.

"What was one of your weirdest arrests? Like, not gross weird, but just, wacky weird." He shifts around in the seat until he's kind of facing Jensen. Jensen looks pretty awesome in the aviator shades he has on, but they're hiding his eyes, and Jared doesn't approve of that at all.

Jensen does that raised-eyebrow thing again. "Wacky weird. Hmm." He taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he thinks, and Jared tries not to stare, remembering a dream he had a few nights ago, of those hands with their long fingers touching and stroking him. "Oh, I got one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Homeless guy, downtown. We got called on him for drunk and disorderly – public intoxication. And I was a beat officer at the time, just out of the academy. Brand new rookie. My FTO was Sam Ferris – you've got her in the property room now, right?"

Jared nods, and man, this is a bonus – he gets a Sergeant Ferris story, too.

"Well, we went up to the guy, and he was in the street, in between two parked cars, and he'd dropped his drawers and was taking a piss."

"Right there in the street?" Jared blinks. "Out for anybody to see?"

"Yup." Jensen taps on the steering wheel again. "Junk hanging out for anyone who cared to, to look at. So Officer Ferris says to me to try and get him out between the cars, and she would try and get his pants pulled up before we cuffed him. And he pulls away, he was pretty fast, for an old homeless guy, and then he starts shouting about how we're staring at him and judging him, and he was just trying to get some business done and we should leave him alone. And all this time, his prick's waving around in the breeze, and it was _not_ a real warm day out, and every so often he'd just piss a little bit more, like, I dunno, he was marking his territory or something."

"Wow." That's quite a visual, and Jared shakes his head, trying to process it. "Seriously, wow. I'm guessing he was off his meds?"

Jensen laughs. "Or something, yeah. He was definitely out there. Not a resident of this reality." He makes a turn off the highway they've been on; this is a smaller, two-lane road, winding up and around the foothills. "How 'bout you? Got any horror stories of the property room?"

"Oh, dude. You kidding me? Do you remember when we were at the old location? Before they moved us back into headquarters, in the new building?"

Jensen nods. "It sucked, having you guys out there, so yeah, I remember."

"The parking lot had a fence around it, with a gate, right? And the gate would open up about seven-thirty in the morning, until five-thirty in the evening, except on holidays it stayed closed. Well the first year I was working in the property room, and I was working President's Day. Or maybe it was Martin Luther King day—which one's in February?"

"President's Day."

"Yeah. Okay. So we're all there, and Jim was our day supervisor at the time, so he was there. And we had this crazy lady who'd been picked up with some dope and a bunch of paraphernalia, and she kept calling and calling to see if her hemostats had been released. Because, according to her, they were antiques and she used them for needlepoint, cutting the threads. Or something like that."

"Because she absolutely wasn't using them to hold her joints," Jensen says, voice laced with humor.

"Absolutely not." Jared grins, remembering psycho lady. "So she calls and we tell her the officer had finally come down and signed the release papers and she could come get them, but we were closed right then and she'd have to wait until the next day. Crazy lady came down and _climbed over the gate_ to get inside the parking lot, then called us on her cell phone to tell us she was standing outside the door, and someone better come out and open it for her, or we were going to be hearing from her attorney."

"I love when they say that." 

"Oh, yeah, me too. And I hear it a lot, when someone brings down some piece of shit paper they're trying to pass off as a court order. You'd be surprised how many people think they can fake 'em and we won't know the difference."

Jensen reaches out and pokes Jared in the leg. "I promise I wouldn't be. So, the crazy lady—did y'all let her in to get her stuff?"

Jared nods. "Yeah, Jim decided it wasn't worth the hassle of having her call us all day, so he went out and scanned his ID and let her in. And then she didn't even say thank you, just shoved on past him. But the best part was when she left back out, because of course she had to climb over the gate again." It makes him snicker thinking about it, and he can see Jensen already smiling in anticipation. "The gate started opening while she was on it—she hopped down just before it slid all the way open, and she's up there yelling and hanging on before she finally lets go and drops."

"Oh, man, I wish I could've seen that. That would've been awesome to watch."

"It really was."

They're turning onto what's either a private, unpaved road, or a really long driveway. Jared hopes Jensen doesn't drive them into a ditch while he's snickering over Jared's story, but his hands seem steady on the wheel, so he's not too worried.

The road is a road, but the driveway they turn onto off it doesn't seem any different: gravel and dirt winding slowly up a hill. Chris's house comes into view suddenly, an A-frame, two-story cabin that looks like it's still partly under construction. When Jared says as much, Jensen laughs and shakes his head.

"Nah, it's looked like that for about five years, now. I mean, there's stuff could stand to be done, but the building is habitable. He's happy as a clam in it, too."

Jared nods, then says, "You ever wonder where that expression came from? Who the hell knows what makes a clam happy, anyway?"

Jensen slows the car and parks behind a raggedy pick-up, then looks at Jared. "Alien abductions and clams," he says slowly, shaking his head. "Your brain is a scary, scary place, dude."

Jared just smirks at him.

~~~~~

"Jenny-boy!"

The shout comes almost as soon as they're out of the car. It makes Jensen roll his eyes, and then Jared does a double take, because it's Mike from work, with his arm tucked snugly around another guy who seems vaguely familiar, though Jared can't place him. 

"Mike?"

"Jared! Awesome to see you, dude!" Mike steps forward and shakes Jared's hand before pressing a beer into it. Jensen shakes his head when Mike holds one up toward him.

"I'm driving."

"I thought you were _sick_ , you bastard." Jared pops the top off his beer, feels momentarily bad for drinking while Jensen doesn't, then scowls at Mike. "You sounded sick! And what the hell are you doing here?" What he really wants to ask is _Since when do you hang out with Jensen?_ but that seems kind of passive-aggressive and confrontational. He's known Jensen for what, a whole week or two?

"I was sick," Mike says. "Still am. But I feel better than I did. And I wouldn't miss one of Chris's Thanksgiving shindigs for nothin'." He pulls the other guy forward. "Jared, this is my better half, Tom. Tom, this is Jared—we work together."

"Another denizen of the property room, huh? Nice to meetcha." Tom stretches his hand out with a smile, and they shake, but Jared's starting to feel like Alice down the rabbit hole. 

"You're gay?" He blurts out, then wants to sink down into the ground. Or disappear. Something. That feeling is only increased when Jensen shoots him a clearly amused glance before reaching out to shake Tom's hand – Tom he clearly knows, since no introductions are exchanged.

Mike just raises one eyebrow. "Well, duh. You didn't know? Or guess?"

"No?" Jared says weakly and shakes his head. No wonder Jensen wasn't fazed by him being gay. Except for the part where Jensen and Mike didn't act like more than casual acquaintances, and wow. Jared's whole world feels kind of spun around and tilted.

"This must be Jared," says another voice Jared doesn't know. He braces himself for more revelations, and is relieved when the guy simply says, "Heard a lot about you, man. I'm Chris. Welcome."

"Hey, Chris." Jared shakes his hand, too, ignoring that Chris seems to be looking him up and down, appraisingly. Also, he's heard a lot about Jared? Jared kind of wants to ask what he's heard – or ask Jensen about it, but he's afraid to ask, too, because what if it's not what he wants to hear? 

Chris lets go of Jared's hand to grab Jensen into a bear hug that blossoms into a group hug when another guy appears.

"Steve! Sonofabitch, I didn't know you were gonna be here today, too." Jensen looks as happy as Jared's seen him, and he's struck by a pang of jealousy that he squashes down ruthlessly. Of course Jensen's going to be happy to see other friends, friends he's had for a lot longer than he's known Jared.

"Wouldn't have missed it, man," Steve is saying, and there's a lot of name-calling in fond voices, and slaps on the back. 

Jared's just about to turn back to Mike and Tom – and seriously, he needs to trade his gaydar in for a newer model, because looking at them here and now, it's _so_ obvious – when Jensen turns toward him, beckoning him over. "Jay, c'mere. Steve, this is Jared. Jared, this is Steve. He and I went to college together." 

Steve looks him over carefully, much like Chris did, then extends his hand. "Nice to meetcha. You an officer, too?"

Jared snorts. "Property clerk, dude. Nothing nearly as interesting as an officer."

"Still. I bet you got a lot of cool stories, too." Steve grins as he looks between Jared and Jensen, and he's about to say something, Jared can feel it. Something profoundly of interest to Jared, which is why that's when a woman – Chris's girlfriend, Jared imagines – steps outside and says, "Chris, I think you need to check on the turkey."

There's a lot of jostling and cussing, and by the time the chaos dies down a bit, Steve's moved off, talking to Mike and Tom, and Jensen's popping the top off a bottle of root beer, giving Jared a grin that melts his insides. Instead of grabbing Jensen and kissing him, Jared settles for saying, "I like 'em."

"They're good people," Jensen says after a long swallow of soda. 

Jared bumps his shoulder against Jensen's as they head toward the cabin. "You and Mike hang out a lot?"

"Nah." Jensen bumps back, fingers of his free hand brushing against Jared's. "Or, well, in spurts. We won't see each other for ages, and then we'll see each other everywhere. Tom, Steve and I had a lot of classes together in college, and then Mike and I were in the academy together – that's how Mike and Tom met."

"So you're a matchmaker, huh?" Jared follows Jensen into the cabin and takes a seat beside him on the couch. 

"Eh. Not on purpose." Jensen settles back, and it's the best torture ever, because he's pressed up close to Jared, warm and solid and smelling so good Jared wants to just lean into him and breathe in his scent.

Chris's girlfriend – Maya – and Steve's wife – Carolyn – join them in the living room, completing the introductions, and then announce dinner is ready. It's all laid out on the table in the (very small) kitchen, and it's going to be a self-service buffet style, with them all going back to the living room and sitting wherever is comfortable, to eat.

Jared loads his plate up with turkey – he's never had one done in a smoker before – and stuffing, and green bean casserole. There's also broccoli-rice-and-cheese casserole, and what looks to be homemade cranberries, as well as sweet potatoes and regular mashed potatoes, with gravy. The pot simmering on the stove turns out to be jambalaya, and Jensen whispers as Jared ladles up a bowl for each of them that Carolyn's from New Orleans, and always makes this for holiday get-togethers. A separate platter has crisp, raw veggies: carrots, celery, radishes, green onions and cucumbers. Next to that is a large, shallow bowl with black and green olives, pitted and not pitted, and dill and sweet pickles, as well as a bowl of spicy, pickled veggies and a platter of deviled eggs.

Jared's pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven, because everything is so good. The turkey is tender and juicy, and the smoker gave it a flavor he loves but has never associated with turkey before.

He's busy shoveling it in, but trying to chew enough so he can taste it without choking, when Jensen frowns and leans in, smoothing his thumb across Jared's lower lip and leaving tingles in its wake.

"What--?"

"Had some gravy right there," Jensen says, voice low and warm. He sticks his thumb in his mouth and sucks the gravy off, and Jared tries not to show the full-body shiver that tickles over him.

When he can make himself look away from Jensen his gaze lands on Chris, who's looking between him and Jensen, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

~~~~~

Someone turns the television on after dinner gives way to dessert, and Jared's so full he's going to pop but no way is he leaving any of the incredibleness of pumpkin-cheesecake-pie on his plate. Once he's finished, though, he lets his eyes slide shut; the only sensible way to deal with an impending food coma is to just give in to it for a while, and he's okay with that. He's warm and comfortable, and Jensen's solid against him, his low, rumbling voice washing over Jared and following him down into sleep.

He wakes up when there's a loud cheer, Mike's voice the loudest. Beside him, Jensen's curled inward against him, fingers tangled in Jared's shirtfront, breath warm where it seeps through the cotton to settle over his skin.

Jared shivers, and Jensen shifts, mumbling, "Jay—mmm." 

Those warm fingers clutch a little tighter, then release him as Jensen wakes up a bit, moving back and sitting up, eyes still soft and unfocused. "Jared?"

"Yeah. You awake yet?" Jared misses the warmth of Jensen's body; wishes he could just pull Jensen back toward him and curl around him. 

Jensen looks around, confusion clearing as he wakes up. "Erf. Yeah." He rubs his eyes, then scowls at Chris and Mike, watching them closely with matching smiles. "Didn't mean to use you for a pillow, man. Sorry."

"I'll probably live." Jared glances down at his shirt, then flashes Jensen a grin. "Dunno about all the drool on my shirt, though. Might have to wring it out before we leave—"

"Asshole," Jensen mutters, shifting until there's actual space between them. Dammit. "See if I apologize ever again."

Jared snorts, and pushes himself up off the couch to stretch out the kinks, warmed through when Jensen's eyes sweep over him, lingering briefly at the spot where his shirt rides up. "I'll try to contain my crushing disappointment," he says, before turning to Chris. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure thing." Chris points to the hallway that leads off the living room. "Second door on the left."

"Thanks, man." 

Jared takes his time – his watch says it's only 7:30, though it feels a lot later – and after washing his hands, splashes some water onto his face. He stares into the mirror for a minute, certain he still feels Jensen's warmth imprinted on his skin, then wipes up the water he dripped onto the counter and dries his hands before heading back down the hall.

As soon as Jared opens the bathroom door, he hears Jensen, voice raised and a little angry. "—your goddamned business, so butt out."

"I'm just sayin', he seems like a nice guy. Don't fuck it up." Chris sounds a little angry, too, though Jared doesn't know him well. He could be imagining it. "Seriously, Jen."

 _Don't fuck it up._ What the hell is that supposed to mean? Jared knows what he wants it to mean, but that's not the same as what it actually does.

He steps into the living room cautiously, but whatever was going on is past. Jared wants to ask so many things; instead he makes his way over to the couch where Jensen's still sitting, idly petting the cat that's jumped onto his lap. The cat tenses when Jared approaches, and he settles beside Jensen, holding his hand out so it can scent him.

"Sorry I smell like dog," he says when the cat does the feline equivalent of wrinkling its nose at him. Jensen laughs, so Jared elbows him. "Where'd the cat come from?"

"He's kind of a communal cat," Steve says, coming in from the kitchen, holding a steaming mug. "He was mine, until I went on the road almost full-time. Chris keeps him now, though Jensen's taken him from time-to-time."

"What's his name?" Jared carefully scritches the cat's nose, then rubs over his head slowly, until the cat relaxes and resumes purring.

"Jennings," Steve says, while Chris and Jensen snicker.

Jared pauses. "Like—Waylon Jennings?"

"No, like William Jennings Bryan. Lawyer who argued against Darwinism at the Scopes Monkey Trial?" Steve shrugs. "It seemed like a good name at the time."

"Now tell Jared how much you'd had to drink before you thought of that one." Jensen strokes the cat slowly, methodically, and all Jared can think of is what those hands would feel like on _him_. "He was _really_ not sober. Not even in the same ballpark as sober."

"It's a cool name, actually," Jared says, still boggling a little. He's pretty sure he's never heard of any other animal named after that lawyer. Or any lawyer, for that matter. "Kind of, um—"

"I think the word you're looking for is 'random'," Jensen says, mouth curled up in a grin. 

"And because even Steve wouldn't name a cat 'John Elroy'," Mike hollers from the kitchen. "Now, a _hamster_ \--"

Chris and Jensen groan at the same time, and Jennings hisses before leaping off Jensen's lap. Jensen scowls at Mike when he comes through with a tray of mugs. "I thought we agreed not to bring that up ever again, asswipe." 

"I never agreed to any such thing." Mike's wearing the most innocent expression Jared's ever seen, and it just looks _wrong_. Geez. "Who wants coffee?"

Jensen shakes his head. "We should probably get going—unless you want some, Jared?"

Jared's kind of dying of curiosity to hear about the hamster incident, and makes a mental note to ask Mike about it one day next week. He shakes his head ruefully, because the coffee smells absolutely awesome. "I need to get going so I can let the mutts out, and get to bed. Some of us," he shoots a look at Mike, who smiles sweetly at him, "have to work at ass o'clock in the morning."

Chris stands up, extending his hand out to Jared. "Sucks to be you, doesn't it?"

"It really, really does."

"It was good to meetcha, Jared. Don't be a stranger—make Jenny bring you up here again, okay?"

Jared nods, like he has any control over what 'Jenny' does. "Sure will. And it was great to meet you, too. Thanks for dinner—it was fantastic."

"Thanks." Chris looks pleased. 

There's a flurry of goodbyes then, Carolyn and Maya coming in to say goodnight, and Steve giving Jensen what looks like a rib-cracking hug and whispering something into Jensen's ear that makes him flush slightly.

"Y'all drive safe," Chris says, walking them to the door. "Jen, give me a call next week, okay?"

"I will." Jensen calls over his shoulder. He and Jared are in the car before Chris closes the door; once they've started down the driveway, the light goes out, leaving only the patrol car's high beams for light.

It's quiet inside the car, and even though it's chilly outside (okay, it's fucking _cold_ , but Jared doesn't mind it too much), it warms up inside quickly. The quiet isn't awkward; instead it feels companionable. Comfortable. 

"Man, we are really up away from civilization, aren't we?" Outside the car, stars are blazing bright and clear, no lights or smog or clouds to take away from the raw beauty.

"Yeah, we are." Jensen sounds tired, in spite of it not being very late. Jared almost reaches over to take his hand, and checks the impulse before he does much more than twitch slightly. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me. It was a good evening." He's still pleasantly full, and feeling a little sleepy despite his nap earlier, and he's had a whole afternoon/evening with Jensen. 

Yeah, today is definitely going onto Jared's list of favorite holiday memories.

~~~~~

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From:jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 27, 2006  
Subject: tell me

Dude, I want to know about the hamster thing.

\----

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: November 27, 2006  
Re: Subject: tell me

When HELL freezes over, Jay. 

\----

"Ackles."

"C'mon, man. Tell me. Pleeeeeease?"

"No." Jensen sounds grumpy, and Jared wonders if it's personal, or job-related. Given where Jensen works, he's guessing job-related.

"You suck." 

Jensen laughs sharply. "So I've been told." There's a pause, like Jensen's weighing his words, and then he adds, "sometimes I swallow, too."

Jared's amazed he doesn't drop the phone, he's so surprised.

"Um--"

"It's impossible to say one and not the other," Jensen says, and there's a note of forced casualness in his voice. "Seriously, though, if you hear about the hamster thing, it's not gonna be from me."

"Fine." Jared would level a pout at the phone, but he's pretty sure the phone doesn't care. "Drinks this week?"

"Not unless they're at your place or mine, because I'm not going anywhere near anything even remotely close to a shopping center. You know we've officially started the Christmas shopping season, right?"

"Scrooge."

The laugh that gets him sounds at least slightly more normal. "Bah humbug." Another pause. "Look, I'm sorry, but I gotta go. Duty calls."

"All right, man. Email me your schedule and we'll figure something out." 

"Will do. Catch you later, Jay."

"Yep. Take care, be safe."

Chad's giving him a funny look when he glances over, and Jared says "What?" and doesn't even care if it comes out sounding a little defensive.

"'Be safe'? Jesus, man, did you lose your balls or something?" But Chad's shaking his head, something soft in his expression. "Just tell the guy you're warm for his form, already."

Jared sputters for a minute, but really, there isn't much he can say that won't end up prompting Chad to quote Shakespeare at him (incorrectly, even), so Jared just keeps his mouth shut.

~~~~~

It occurs to Jared one afternoon, watching the snowflakes drifting lazily down from the sky, just how important Jensen's become to him, and it makes him a little dizzy when he realizes how fast it happened. Because sure, he's lusting after the guy (though at least he's mostly stopped popping boners just randomly thinking about Jensen), and he's got one hell of a crush on him, but it's way more than that. It's being able to goof off together, and how they can talk about anything and everything, and even when they disagree on things it's more amiable and laidback than with anyone else Jared's ever disagreed with.

Sometimes, Jensen will say or do something that makes Jared think he's as queer as Jared – enough so that twice now he's nearly broken his number one rule of not asking someone point blank about their sexuality. And no, the thing with Mike, when he blurted it out at Thanksgiving, that totally doesn't count. Mike continues to be the exception to, well, pretty much everything.

But there's stuff with Jensen, like the snowball fight they had a couple days ago that turned into a down-and-dirty wrestling match out in Jared's back yard, with Jensen pinning Jared down and leaning in so close Jared was _sure_ Jensen was about to kiss him.

He didn't, though. He pulled back, muttering, "sorry, sorry," cheeks red in a way that had nothing to do with the cold or the snow. Jared thinks how close he came to just saying 'screw it', and pulling Jensen back down on top of him—but he doesn't want to mess things up between them if he's reading the (possibly imagined) signs wrong. The thought of no Jensen at all in his life makes Jared feel cold all over.

So, okay, maybe it's driving Jared a little crazy, how he thinks – hopes – sometimes that Jensen's flirting with him. But more than that is this _stupid_ motherfucking crush that won't go away, and that Jared thinks his subconscious is secretly nurturing. Because really, it's been weeks now, a few anyway, and he's been trying not to flirt with Jensen, at least not too obviously, since he doesn't want to scare the guy away. But maybe he needs to be a little more obvious? Push just a little bit?

Which is how Jared finds himself listening to the phone ringing, muttering, "C'mon, pick up, pick up," in the middle of the week, determined to invite Jensen over for grilled brats and a monster movie marathon, without his brain shorting out.

"Ackles."

"I've got a nice, big sausage to share, if you're interested," is what comes out of Jared's mouth, and he sighs. So much for that plan. Nice to know the disconnect between mouth and brain is still operational.

On the other end, he hears the not-quite-silent wheezing noise Jensen makes when he's laughing so hard he can't breathe.

"Jen—"

More wheezing, and then a choked cough, and finally Jensen pulls himself together and says, "Is that a proposition?"

Things like that completely fuck with Jared's head, and, in his opinion, make it near impossible to get over his crush. 

"Depends on what you like doing with grilled brats. You got some kind of fetish I should know about, before I invite you over for dinner?"

"Well, I like to eat them—"

A vivid image of Jensen on his knees, that absolutely gorgeous mouth wrapped around Jared's dick, lips red and swollen from cock-sucking pops into Jared's head, and he chokes on whatever it was he was going to say before his brain decided to ambush him. Again.

"Jared?"

"Sorry," he coughs, trying to get his mouth and brain working in tandem. "Water, down the wrong pipe." Another cough, and he wipes his mouth off and tries again. "So, um. You interested in dinner and a movie tonight?"

"I don't put out on the first date." The teasing lilt in Jensen's voice makes something contract low in Jared's stomach, tendrils of heat slinking outward. 

" _If_ it was a date, it'd hardly be our first." Jared thinks he kept his voice nicely steady with that. "Asshole."

"You sweet-talker. And yes, I'm interested. But dude, you know it's about twenty degrees outside, right? You're not really going to grill?"

"Absolutely. Cold weather has nothing on the lure of grilled sausage."

"I think you're touched in the head, Jay."

"Maybe, but you love me anyway." 

Jensen doesn't even miss a beat. "You know it, man. So what time do you want me?"

"Uh. What time are you off-duty?" He deserves a fucking _medal_ for not rising - hah - to that.

"Four."

"Come over then. Unless you're covered in something gross, in which case, go home and shower first and then come over. No contaminating the sausages."

"Such a freak," Jensen murmurs. "See you a bit after four."

"Yep." Jared listens for the click and hangs up the phone. Sandy's watching him with knowing eyes, and he scowls at her. "What?"

"Nothing." She shakes her head. "Just—does he have any idea how you feel about him?"

"No." Jared taps his pencil against his desk. "It's better that way. This way we can be friends, at least. It's better than freaking him out and having him like, transfer to a different city or something."

He's torn between hoping he'll believe it if he says it often enough, and hoping Jensen starts paying attention to the signals Jared's throwing out occasionally.

It must show on his face, because Sandy smiles sweetly at him, and says, "Boys are such idiots."

Jared really can't disagree with that assessment, either.

~~~~~

Jared has the grill fired up and ready when Jensen shows up just before four-thirty, a six-pack of Coronas tucked under his arm. He gives Jared a sunny smile when the door is opened.

"I was gonna bring you flowers, but thought beer would be more fun."

"Yeah, and I don't think I have anything that'll go with plastic daisies anyway."

"I'm wounded, dude. I would've totally sprung for the real ones."

Jensen shoves at Jared's shoulder and braces himself against the wall for the dogs' enthusiastic greeting. Jared sticks the beer in the fridge and grabs the platter of brats. The potatoes are already on the grill, cooking inside their little foil jackets. 

On his way back outside he calls out, "When you're done messing around with the dogs, get the green beans outta the freezer and see how long they'll take in the microwave."

"You just like me to come to dinner so you have someone to boss around," Jensen hollers back. "Also, your mutts are the ones who assaulted me, I'm not _messing around with them_."

"Blah blah blah. Whine to someone who cares." Jared thinks closing the sliding door behind him is a good way to end that conversation.

It also eliminates the possibility of Jensen trying to throw a snowball at him, since Jensen's inside the house, and the snow is all out here, with Jared.

~~~~~

When there's nothing left of dinner except some grease and smears of sour cream, Jared leans back in his chair and belches.

"That's classy," Jensen tells him. "You're a real charmer, aren't you?"

"I try." Jared finds a crumb on the table and flicks it in Jensen's direction. "You can't mind too much, you keep coming over."

Jensen shrugs. "Free food, man. I can ignore bad manners for that."

"So, what, you're not coming over for my pretty face and witty conversation?"

"Free food, Jay." Jensen gently kicks Jared's foot under the table. "Makes up for a lot."

"If I wasn't so full, I would totally kick your ass for that."

"You could try." Jensen still hasn't moved his foot. He's not…caressing, exactly, like if they were playing footsie, but he's pressing lightly, rhythmically. Jared presses back, once, then again.

"Yeah, or I could just withhold dessert."

Jensen's foot stills against Jared's, though he doesn't draw away. "There's dessert?"

"Chocolate-caramel cake. Homemade. If you're nice, I might share."

The sound Jensen makes is almost a moan. "You're going to make someone a wonderful wife someday, man."

"And don't you forget it, bitch. I got _skillz_." Jared waggles his fingers until Jensen laughs. "Lemme get the dishes into the dishwasher, and we can have cake with the monster movies."

"Want me to do anything?"

Oh, such a loaded question. Jared kind of really wants to answer honestly, but he settles for, "why don't you get the movie set up? It's on top of the TV."

The rest of the evening is a blur of bad - old - monster movies -- The Mummy and Dracula -- chocolate-caramel cake, and a whole lot of random touches, including Jensen sitting close enough to Jared that their legs are flush against each other and Jared can feel the heat rising off Jensen, that leave Jared even more confused than usual. By the time Jensen heads out for the night, Jared's about to climb out of his skin, he's so turned on. He pushes the dogs out of his room and shuts the door. He's going to shower, and he's going to jerk off, and maybe that'll help, at least a little bit.

The water's warm, and it slides over his skin like a caress, teasing him. He stands under the showerhead and tips his head back, lathering the soap up in his hands. The bubbles run down his arms, following the rivulets of water. They tickle a little, leaving a slick trail as they wind down his body.

Jared closes his eyes and thinks of Jensen, pictures him lean and strong, thick thighs with his cock swinging full and heavy between them. Jensen's leaning in to kiss him, mouth open just enough to tease over Jared's lower lip, light suction and then a swipe of his tongue. He licks downward, nipping at Jared's throat, sucking on his Adam's apple. 

The first touch of his hands on his over-sensitized skin make Jared moan; in his fantasy it's Jensen's mouth and hands, stroking, gliding, rubbing. Jensen bites at Jared's navel, then licks around it. He cups Jared's balls in one hand and rolls them, rubs them, pressing his fingers up behind them until Jared's whimpering and pleading wordlessly. 

Jensen's mouth is perfect for sucking, and he draws it out, teasing Jared mercilessly. He licks at the tip, tongue gathering up the droplets of pre-come already leaking, then tongues downward, down the length of Jared's shaft, sucking kisses that make Jared's head spin.

He groans and wraps his hand around himself, working his cock hard, fast, soap bubbles easing the way and giving him slick, smooth friction. The pictures in his head shift abruptly to Jensen on his hands and knees on Jared's bed, ass tilted upward, open and ready for Jared to fuck into. He'd be so tight, so hot, absolutely perfect, and Jared feels that heat as he jacks himself, feels himself driving forward into Jensen, over and over until his balls tighten and heat streaks through him and he comes in thick pulses, sticky and warm over his hand.

The tiles in his shower are cool compared to the water and his skin, and Jared shivers a little when he leans back against them. Aftershocks are still firing through him, his pulse throbbing fast and hard, slowing as he comes down.

God, what he'd give to have that be more than just a jerk-off fantasy.

~~~~~

There's a small package -- cookies and what looks to be fudge, wrapped in plastic with a festive red-and-green ribbon -- sitting on his desk when Jared drags himself in to work in the morning. The note, obviously scribbled hastily on the yellow post-it, reads:

_Hey, Jay, Mrs. Klein brought a boatload of cookies over the other day, with strict instructions to share with you. Your appetite's clearly a universal thing if my neighbor's telling me to give you food. Enjoy! --Jensen_

It's almost enough to wake him up fully. Almost.

"Dude." Chad looks Jared over head-to-toe, and shakes his head. "You need to tell your boyfriend not to keep you up so late when you gotta come in to work the next day."

"Fuck off," Jared mutters, exhaustion slamming back into him. He got four chapters written last night, which makes being so tired worth it, though he woke up with the niggling feeling that something was wrong, and he can't shake it. "Just for that, see if I share with you."

"Hey! Just for what? I just call it the way I see it, Jay-bird."

"You are such an ass." Sandy pushes past Chad and sets a mug of coffee on Jared's desk. "Got some writing done, huh?"

Jared smiles his thanks at her and takes a huge mouthful, not caring that even with milk added it's going to be really hot. It burns going down, which makes his eyes water, but once he can talk again, he says, "Yep, four chapters. Anyway, sleep is for the weak. Right?"

Both his co-workers eye him a little skeptically before Chad says, "whatever you have to tell yourself, dude."

~~~~~

The news is full of stuff about it being Pearl Harbor Day, and while it's kind of cool to listen to the guys who were there and survived talking about it, after a while it gets depressing and Chad switches the channel to the Cartoon Network.

It takes Sandy over an hour to notice, and then she bops Chad on the head before snagging the remote and switching the channel back to where they were before. Jared's only half-listening, concentrating on the list of disposals he still needs to get done as well as what to bring next week to the holiday party when the newscaster catches his attention.

"…fire and police are on the scene of an apartment building fire near Arapahoe and twenty-eighth street. We don't have any details to give at this time, but we'll interrupt our morning programming to bring you any developments as they come to us. This is Karen Hawthorn reporting for KRBK, News 32."

Jared frowns at the television, then glances over at Chad. "Did they say Arapahoe and twenty-eighth?"

"Dunno, man, sorry. I wasn't listening." Chad's staring at his monitor, lips moving as he reads whatever it is he's looking at. "Check the internet, the news feed."

Occasionally Chad's absolutely brilliant. This is one of those times.

Except for how there isn't anything up on any of the news sites, and Jared growls in frustration at the screen. He looks up at the TV again, but it's still showing the Today Show, Matt Lauer droning on about something, and dammit!

Sandy comes in from the back and frowns. "Jared? What's wrong?"

"There's a fire—and it's right where, I mean, Jensen lives right off of Arapahoe and twenty-eighth, and the news is saying that's where the fire is."

"You know the chances of it being his apartment building are pretty slim." It's so odd for _Chad_ to be the voice of reason, Jared's almost pulled out of his growing anxiety by that alone.

"I know. But—" He shakes his head, unable to articulate what he's feeling; what he's felt since he got out of bed this morning. Something was wrong, was off, and Jared doesn't know what it is, but everything feels tilted just slightly out of synch. "It's just a feeling," he says, finally, and scribbles on his calendar page.

~~~~~

It's almost nine before they get any actual news reports, though the officer who came in a little while ago said it was a bad fire; they've had to call out a couple of station houses and even as damp as everything is from the rain and snow, the winds are up today, and the fire crews were having trouble getting the blaze under control.

When the local news channel breaks in on the morning show, Jared hits the volume button on the remote and leans forward in his seat.

"We've had word from our news crew at the scene that the apartments involved in this fire are the Blue Spruce apartments. It's a complex populated primarily by older tenants, and the area is one of the rougher neighborhoods in the city, part of old Boulder, scheduled for renovation in 2010. We have received confirmation that a Boulder Metro police officer lives in these apartments, though no word as of yet if he was inside when the blaze started, or if there are any casualties. We'll keep you updated throughout the day."

"Holy _shit_ ," Jared breathes, fumbling in his backpack for his cell phone. "It's Jensen's apartments. Holy shit." 

He hears Chad and Sandy talking, but nothing they're saying penetrates his growing panic; nothing's making any sense. He tries Jensen's office phone and gets voice mail; he tries Jensen's cell and gets the same thing.

Jared's hands are shaking when he puts the phone down on his desk, and the Christmas cookies he ate earlier are sitting like a rock in his stomach now.

"I'm sure he's okay, Jared." Sandy's hand is light on his shoulder, but the touch is comforting, calming. Jared leans in to it, and when he looks over at Chad, even he is frowning. 

"No answer at his office or on his cell," Jared says, and closes his eyes. _Please let him be okay. Please. He has to be okay._ Distantly he hears Sandy asking if he wants her to call down to the first division, see if they have any information; over her voice he hears Chad telling Sergeant Ferris what's going on, but it's all just white noise, because his brain is in overdrive, heading from panicked to freaked-the-fuck-out.

~~~~~

It's just past one when Jared's cell rings, and the display reads "Jensen". "Tell me you're alright," he demands, not even waiting for a greeting first.

"I'm alright," Jensen says, and he sounds rough, his voice so thick and hoarse Jared isn't sure he'd have recognized him without the caller ID. "Just some smoke inhalation, but they're making me stay overnight for observation."

"Oh, God." Jared has to lean back against his chair, relief sliding through him, leaving him trembling. "What happened?"

Jensen coughs a couple of times, then rasps out, "No idea. One minute I'm sleeping, and the next the smoke alarm is blaring, and I can't breathe or see anything. I got out, but there was smoke everywhere, man. The fire chief will be taking a look later, once they've got everything out and cooled down."

"Was anyone hurt? Do you know?" He's been over to Jensen's enough times now to have met several of his neighbors – the cookies he ate earlier were some Mrs. Klein gave to Jensen just this past weekend.

"Mr. Klein's being treated for smoke inhalation, and some minor burns. A couple of the other tenants are, too. I don't know about everyone." Jensen coughs again, and Jared hears someone in the background talking to Jensen, a scolding tone of voice. "The nurse says I gotta go, gotta put my oxygen thing, cannula, back on. Can you call Chris for me?"

"Absolutely." Jared swallows hard. "I'm—I'm glad you're okay, Jen." _I don't know what I would've done if you'd been really hurt. Or killed._ "Call me when you're discharged and I'll come get you."

"Okay." Another cough, more chatter in the background, and Jensen says, "Bye", and disconnects the call.

"He okay?" Chad and Sandy weren't even trying to pretend they weren't listening in, and both look relieved when Jared nods.

"They're keeping him for observation tonight, since I guess he inhaled a lot of smoke." Jared's calmer now, though he's not sure he could stand up since his knees still feel wobbly. He thumbs through his list of contacts until he finds Chris's number; best to call him now, before he forgets or gets distracted.

_Hey, you've reached Chris. If you meant to, leave me a message. If you didn't, well, don't._

Jared rolls his eyes and listens for the beep. "Chris, it's Jared. Jensen wanted me to call you and let you know he's okay – there was a fire at his apartment this morning. He's in the hospital overnight for observation, but says he's okay. He has his cell if you want to call him later."

He disconnects the call and realizes he didn't even ask Jensen which hospital he's at. "And the award for most moronic goes to—"

"Chad, as always." Sandy's stepped up behind him, hands on his shoulders. Chad says "hey!" in an aggrieved tone, but doesn't dispute it otherwise. "Why don't you go home? Or go see him, or something?"

"I didn't get which hospital he's at."

"If it's burn-related, he'll be at University." Sergeant Ferris smiles kindly when Jared jerks his head up. "But he's going to be up to his ass in doctors and techs and probably reporters, not to mention the fire chief. Be better to wait until he needs a ride home."

"Yeah." Jared sighs. Ferris is right, but it's really hard to make his brain listen to logic when his gut is screaming _go! Make sure he's really okay!_ In fact, it takes what Jared considers to be a superhuman effort to stay in his seat, not log out of his programs, and to answer the phone when it rings again. And if his voice wobbles through the "Boulder Police Property Room, this is Jared, may I help you," well. No one's going to give him shit about it. Not right now, anyway.

~~~~~

"You're sure about the hotel, Jen?" Jared darts a quick glance at Jensen, pale and quiet in the passenger seat beside him. He still has the damn hospital bracelet on, and it keeps snagging Jared's attention away from the road.

"I'm sure. It'll just be a couple days, 'til I get things figured out, anyway, and then I'll find a rental. It shouldn't take too long--Paul Hendrickson's wife is a realtor; he said she'd be able to get me fixed up pretty quick."

"Yeah, but--you just got outta the hospital--" Jared changes lanes and ignores the honk he gets when he cuts off another car. "You sure you're okay by yourself?"

Jensen smiles faintly and rubs his hands up and down his thighs. "It was just some smoke inhalation, Jay," he says, voice gentle though it's still rough. "I'm okay. Really."

"I know." 

"Do you?" Jensen pats Jared's leg, fingers lingering for just the barest second longer than necessary. "I had a visit from the fire chief this morning, before you showed up."

"Yeah?"

"They found traces of accelerant in several different areas -- and concentrated around my place."

Jared turns the truck into the parking lot and parks in the first spot he sees. When he's sure it's turned off and he's not likely to crash into anything, he turns and stares at Jensen. "Arson? Like--someone set your place on fire on purpose?"

"Kind of looking that way."

"Nice. So you have some psycho out gunning for you—"

"Well," Jensen starts, and Jared cuts him off.

"You know what I mean. And I know you're this big, macho dude with a gun and a badge and shit, but dammit." Jared closes his eyes and breathes in and out slowly, then opens them again and looks at Jensen. "Sorry, just, this is new for me. Having a friend who could—could die, because someone out there is mad he got caught doing something illegal." It's funny how fast the tiny burn mark on the seat – someone's cigarette from so long ago Jared doesn't even remember who – becomes absolutely fascinating.

"Jared—" Jensen sighs. "It doesn't have to be related to me being a cop. It could be someone mad because I cut them off on the highway, or got ahead of them in line somewhere, or who knows what. And anyway, on any given day either of us could—"

"So help me God, if you say 'get hit by a bus' or some other shit like that, I'll punch you. I swear I will."

The words come out more angry than teasing, and when Jared chances a look at Jensen, Jensen's staring at him, one eyebrow cocked up, clearly torn between exasperation and amusement.

"Fine. I won't say it. But you get it, right?"

"I get it." Jared sighs and turns the truck back on. "Go on in and get a room, and I'll drive you back down to the motor pool. They're gonna give you another car, right? Without a hassle?"

"Since I wasn't driving the car, or in the car, or anywhere near the car when it went up in flames, yeah. Another car, no questions asked." Jensen undoes his seatbelt and slides out of the truck. He's turning away, about to swing the door shut, then catches it at the last minute. "Hey, Jared?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, man. For everything."

Warmth spreads through Jared with the smile Jensen gives him, like a tiny sun glowing inside his chest. He smiles back and says, "don't mention it."

~~~~~

Except for the fact that Jensen's currently calling the Residence Inn home, things slide back into normal fairly quickly: work, sleep, write a few words, dinner and hanging out with Jensen, and last minute holiday shopping.

There's one fatality from the fire—Mrs. Betty Moore, who was ninety-three years old; Jensen tells Jared over dinner a couple nights later that it wasn't the fire, directly, nor even excessive smoke inhalation.

"I think it was probably just shock, y'know? Too much adrenaline and shit, and her body probably couldn't handle the stress of it."

"It sucks, though." Jared pushes his spaghetti around on his plate, not really interested in eating. He's tired, a little stressed himself, and so looking forward to his vacation it's not even funny. He glances up to see Jensen staring at him. "You gonna go to her funeral?"

Jensen shakes his head. "Her grandson and granddaughter are having her cremated, and taking her ashes back to North Carolina for the memorial service. I guess that's where the family plot is, or something."

"Gotcha. How about the Kleins? They find a place?"

"Yeah. Well. They're going to go stay with their daughter and her family in Denver, and I think after the holidays they're going to Florida for a few months. Mr. Klein has a brother who lives down there, and I guess they're gonna stay with him for a while."

"That's cool. They could probably use a vacation after all this." Jared stabs at a noodle, then nods toward the newspaper, folded and marked up with red circles and yellow and orange highlighter. "Find anything yet?"

"No." Jensen pushes his plate away and leans back in his chair. "Why is it, when you're not looking for a place, there's always a zillion 'For Rent' signs _everywhere_ …but when you need to find something, nothing's available, or what is available is over-priced and underwhelming?"

"Because you obviously stomped puppies in a past life, so the universe hates you?" Jared pushes his own plate away and ignores Jensen's eyebrow-raised expression of disbelief at him not finishing his dinner.

"Thanks, dude. That makes me feel so much better about all this."

"My pleasure." Jared leans backs and feels a furry head bump his hand. "You looking just at rentals? Or you looking at places for sale, too?"

"Rentals. I don't have enough time to mess with upkeep on a house, a yard, and all that."

"You're commitment phobic." Jared nods and manages a smile when Jensen gapes at him. 

"How the hell do you get 'commitment phobic' out of me wanting to rent an apartment?"

"'Cos a house is like a relationship, man. It requires commitment and time and effort. So, you're commitment phobic. You should get some help for that."

"I think I resemble that remark," Jensen says, balling up his napkin and throwing it at Jared. "Ass."

Jared throws the napkin ball back at Jensen, laughing when Jensen shifts like he's going to lunge and Harley barks excitedly.

"Game on?" Jared asks, throwing his napkin at Jensen.

"Nah, I need to get going -- got some more paperwork from the insurance company I need to go over, and you look like you could stand to go to bed, anyway." At Jared's scowl he adds, "I have to get some sleep too, man. I have an eight a.m. meeting with the fire chief and Major Chester."

"Oh, that sounds like fun." Fun the way it would be fun to have a root canal with no anesthesia. From the expression on Jensen's face, he agrees. Jared shudders at his comparison and shoves back from the table. "Dinner tomorrow?"

"Same time, same place? I love the cuisine here."

"Chez Padalecki, absolutely. We do a mean beef stew." Which is a good reminder to get the beef out of the freezer, actually. Jared looks out the window above the sink on his way to the fridge. "Still snowing, man. Drive safe."

"I will." Jensen's shrugging into his coat. "Have a good day tomorrow."

"You too. Good luck with your meeting."

Jared walks Jensen to the door only because he needs to lock up, not because he wants one final look at Jensen for the day. He tells Harley and Sadie as much, then blows a raspberry at them when they express their disdain by barking sharply.

"Yeah, this one-sided crushing thing, or whatever, sucks. But it would suck worse to not have it. So button it."

Sadie whines and wags her tail, and Jared sighs. This is what it's come to: talking to his dogs about Jensen.

Clearly the universe hates him.

~~~~~

The latest from the meeting Jensen had with the fire chief is that it looks like Jensen was indeed the intended target and it relates back to an arrest he made earlier in the year. The guy is awaiting trial for rape and sodomy of two ten-year olds, along with the attempted sale of tapes of the same, and it looks as though he contracted and paid someone on the outside to off Jensen for him.

By the time Jared's done reading the email Jensen sent him with the new information, he's dizzy and sick to his stomach with the list of charges currently being compiled against this guy. Arson. Attempted murder. Second-degree murder, for Mrs. Moore. 

Jensen's also having shit for luck finding a place to rent, and Jared finds himself thinking about Jensen living out of a suitcase in a hotel room, all by himself, the week before Christmas. He decides no friend of his is going to spend Christmas that way. It's silly for Jensen to shell out the money for a hotel when he's spending most of his free time over at Jared's anyway, and Jared has more than enough room for Jensen to stay with him: guest room upstairs, plus the whole basement if he'd rather have his own 'apartment'.

Clearly, the only thing to do here is to offer Jensen a place to stay, and Jared very determinedly ignores the voice in his head asking him if he's offering because Jensen's his friend, or if he's hoping for something more. 

The more he thinks about it, the more Jared thinks it's the right thing to do. He opens up Outlook and shoots off a message to Jensen before he can talk himself back out of it.

\---

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: 10:43 AM  
Subject: new place

Hey, Jen,

Got an idea, since you're having such crap luck finding a place: I have a spare basement I'm not doing anything with. You're welcome to it. Besides (obviously, given your luck lately), the holidays are a sucky time of year to be looking for a new place.

\---

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: 10:45 AM  
Subject: new place

Are you sure? It would save me a huge headache, because I'm just not finding anything I like (not one word about commitment phobia, either, you freak). I don't have much to move in, so I don't really need much space. I'll split utilities and pay you rent.

 

\---

To: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: 10:48 AM  
Subject: new place

> I'll split utilities and pay you rent.

Dude, give me a break. It's the holidays, you're homeless, you don't need to worry about rent and shit. Just pitch in on groceries, and we can call it even.

\---

To: jpadalecki@bouldermetropd.gov  
From: jrackles@bouldermetropd.gov  
Date: 10:53 AM  
Subject: new place

Jared, I've seen you eat. I think splitting the utilities and paying rent is actually the better end of the deal. :P I'll call you in a few, and we can talk about it. Finishing up case notes right now. Gimme about ten.

Also? THANK YOU.

\---

Jared's still laughing when the phone rings.

~~~~~

It's really depressing how little Jensen has to move in. He's been shopping, obviously, because he has a couple of suitcases, and a box or two of things salvaged from what was left of his apartment, but otherwise--really depressing.

"You're not seriously going to sleep on an air mattress." Jared frowns at the Aerobed Jensen's unfolding on the carpeted area of the basement, and shakes his head. "Dude. You can have the mattress off the guest bed upstairs. Or hell, the futon in my office. Or, you know, you could sleep _in the guest room_ , like a sensible person. Don't sleep on an air mattress. Your back will hate you forever."

"It's comfy, I promise." Jensen turns on the pump and the mattress starts inflating, the hiss of air rushing through the tubing a little disturbing. Harley obviously thinks so, too, because he barks at it. "Do you have some sheets and blankets I can borrow? I didn't have a chance to pick up any."

"Only if you promise me you'll get a real bed this weekend. Jesus, Jen." Jared watches the mattress filling up; it's kind of weird to have it inflating itself like this. A little creepy, even. "Seriously, you can sleep upstairs. I promise the dogs won't molest you in your sleep. I'll shut 'em in with me."

"That's a really disturbing image, thanks." Jensen tugs and pulls on the mattress as it finishing unfolding and inflating. "Now I'm going to wonder why you phrased it that way for like, the rest of the time I'm here."

"You suck." Jared's just grateful it came out as "dogs" and not "me", because that's something he'd really like to do. "And because you suck so much, you get to help me decorate my tree."

Jensen groans, and Sadie barks at him. "You haven't decorated that thing _yet_? You've had it up for over a week. I know, because I helped you put it up!"

"I haven't had time, man. By the time I get home, do all the stuff I need to get done, I'm too tired to feel all Christmassy and stuff. But I'm good right now, and I think you should help. Since you live here, now."

That gets him an eye roll, but Jensen nods. "Fine. Let's do it now, get it over with." 

"I kind of doubt this is the sort of thing you're supposed to think 'let's get it over with' about. C'mon, guys. Upstairs!" He pats his leg and beckons to the dogs. "Sadie, Harley, come on. You guys can come down and sniff Jensen's bed later."

"God, would you stop it? I'm never going to let these mutts near my bed again at this rate." Jensen's grumbles follow Jared and the dogs up the stairs, and Jared smiles when he notes Jensen making sure the door down to the basement is shut tight.

~~~~~

Christmas Eve has always been Jared's absolute favorite part of the Christmas season; the most magical, wonderful day of the whole year. This year's has been even better; not only magical, but a good chance to relax. It's been a good evening, and Jared's ready to extend it for as long as he can manage.

They've had a lot of eggnog, but Jared didn't spike it as strongly as he might normally have, because he doesn't want to get drunk, just wants them relaxed. They deserve it, both of them. Jared's on vacation and Jensen's had a couple of weeks of hell, and yeah. They deserve to just unwind. He's really looking forward to tomorrow, too, and unwrapping presents. Or watching Jensen unwrap presents. Because he might possibly have gone out and gotten a few more than he'd already had under the tree. Last minute shopping is practically a requirement at Christmas, and if it turns out that your best friend has just lost almost everything he owns, well. What better excuse to go a little crazy?

There is even, though Jared hasn't mentioned it, a present under the tree for Jensen from Jared's parents. It was kind of embarrassing when he opened the package from home and saw Jensen's name on one of the tags, to realize he's talked about Jensen so much, so often, that he couldn't fool momma. Even if Jensen is just Jared's friend, his momma knows he wants more. That he cares a lot for Jensen.

If he's right, the package is probably a needlepoint project of some sort. Jared's momma took up needlepoint a few years ago when she was off work after some knee surgery, and needed something to keep her busy. She's gotten pretty good; Jared even has a couple of framed pieces around the house.

"Want some more nog?" Jensen breaks into Jared's contemplation of the tree and the presents.

"Nah, I'm good. Start the movie?" They've already watched the first Die Hard; the second one is in the player now, just waiting for one of them to press 'play'.

"You've got the remote." Jensen shifts on the couch, and Jared finds himself sliding a little closer—and man, it feels good. He really doesn't want to do anything about it when Jensen moves again and puts his arm up along the back of the couch, fingers brushing the back of Jared's neck casually, absently, like he's not even aware he's doing it. It's painful, in a way, because it's so very much what Jared wants--Jensen touching him, being close to him, and it's right here like it's being offered to him, except not. 

"Oh, um. Yeah." The remote's somewhere around here, anyway. Jared leans over to feel for it; when he sits back up he's surrounded by Jensen. His scent, his warmth, the soft brush of cotton where his t-shirt rubs against Jared's bare arm.

It's all Jared can do not to whimper. 

"'S nice," Jensen says softly. "Thanks for this. For having me, for being there for me." Jared hums in agreement; he's glad Jensen's here, too. He aches deep inside with what he feels for Jensen, but as he's thought so often over the last month or so, it's worth it and he would rather have that ache and Jensen's friendship than not have it.

John McClane is kicking butt in Washington DC's airport, and Jared tips his head toward Jensen and whispers, "think you could take him?"

Jensen snickers and turns his head, and oh. Oh, God, they're so close and all Jared wants to do is close up those last few inches between them. Wants to see if Jensen tastes like eggnog or rum, or maybe sugar from the fudge they'd been eating. He closes his eyes; he's going to move back, move away, any minute now. Any minute.

There's a soft noise, a groan or a moan, something, and Jensen's mouth is touching his, barely brushing, the lightest pressure possible. Not even a kiss, just _there_. Jared sucks a breath in, shivering when Jensen whispers against his mouth.

"I've tried…not to…God, Jared, you're killing me, here. I want--" 

Jared swallows roughly, heat curling through him, making it hard to think. "Jen—are you, you don't—are you sure?"

"Shut up and kiss me. _Please_." Jensen growls the words against Jared's mouth, pressure, heat, and then slick and soft when he opens his mouth to the kiss and Jensen's tongue teases in, touching and tasting.

He tastes like the eggnog, with a bittersweet layer under it, the rum and fudge swirling together. Jensen curls his fingers into Jared's hair, and god, Jared wants to touch, _needs_ to touch, so badly. He swings himself up over Jensen's legs, straddling his lap, and brings his hands up; cups Jensen's face between them as he leans in and kisses Jensen again and again, swallowing Jensen's groans.

"God, you taste good," Jensen sighs, mouthing along Jared's jaw. "So good."

Jared tilts his head back, giving Jensen more room to lick, to bite, anything he wants. "I thought--I didn't think--"

"You wanna talk, or you wanna make out?" Jensen leans back and touches his thumb to Jared's mouth; Jared opens and licks at the tip, then sucks Jensen's thumb in.

"I really want to get naked with you," Jared murmurs, sliding his mouth up and down the length of Jensen's thumb. "Touch you. Taste you. Fuck you." Jared feels the shudder that goes through Jensen's body; his growl works its way through Jared as well, and Jared lifts his head to grin. "Like that idea? Want me to fuck you, Jen? Hold you down and fill you up?"

"Christ, you got a dirty mouth, don't you?" Jensen tugs Jared back down for another kiss, long and deep and scorching hot, and by the time they separate again, Jared's rocking his hips forward and back slowly, cock filling and hardening, rubbing against Jensen's.

"Mmm." Jared kisses Jensen hard, sharp, bites at his lips. "Should see what I can do with it."

"I'm hoping to." Jensen strokes up under Jared's t-shirt, rubbing his thumbs over Jared's nipples. He makes a noise that's part growl, part moan when he discovers the small, silver rings threaded through Jared's nipples. "Oh, my God. Jared--" One tug has Jared shuddering against him, and then Jensen's ducking his head and rucking the t-shirt up so he can lick and suck at one while pulling gently on the other.

"Don't--don't have to be so careful," Jared pants, arching forward into the touches. "They're not new-- _God_ , yes. Like that." Christ, but Jensen's mouth feels so good, sucking, pulling, teasing. Jared hasn't been with anyone since he got the piercings done, has only had his own fingers, and it's just not the same.

"Kinky little bitch," Jensen mutters, biting down on one nipple and tugging. "Got any more surprises?" He strokes his hand downward to rub over Jared's crotch, and Jared stutters out a ragged laugh.

"Thought about it, but haven't done it yet." 

Jensen laughs too, then, eyes dark and hot, watching intently as he teases and plays with Jared, and Jared wonders briefly if he's asleep and dreaming, because no way can this really be happening--can it?

Sharp bursts of gunfire from the TV and the sound of Harley snorting in his sleep yank Jared out of his thoughts, back to the here-and-now, to Jensen, warm and solid beneath him, face flushed and lightly sheened with sweat. So gorgeous, and God, he's _here_. Wanting Jared the way Jared's wanted him for so long, now.

"Am I boring you?" Jensen twists one nipple, thumbing at the ring, and Jared chokes out, "…no, God."

It's getting hard to breathe, and as good as all this feels, Jared really wants to see Jensen naked and spread out on his bed, body gleaming pale against the navy flannel sheets Jared has on his bed.

"C'mon," he whispers, sound sticking in his throat when Jensen leans in to nuzzle. "Bedroom. Wanna see you, Jen." 

It takes far more concentration than it should to coordinate getting up and stumbling toward the bedroom. Jared undoes his jeans on the way. Jensen's got his shirt mostly off by the time Jared's shut the door and turned back toward him, and Jared peels his off, tossing it aside to be joined shortly by his jeans and Jensen's sweats before sitting down on the side of the bed.

"Lemme," he says when Jensen reaches for the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Jensen nods and steps forward, eyes fluttering shut when Jared strokes one finger down over the outline of his dick, straining forward against the fabric. A small dark spot is forming, spreading, and Jared hooks the elastic down to lick at the tip, gathering the moisture beading up. Jensen closes his fingers tight on Jared's shoulders, holding fast while Jared laps at his dick, tongue darting against the tiny slit.

He slides his mouth down over the length, humming when Jensen chokes out his name, and man, Jensen tastes good. Feels good, hot and hard and thick, heavy against Jared's tongue.

"Scoot back," Jensen says, voice rough with arousal. "Wanna taste you, too."

Jared nods and wriggles backward, letting Jensen pull his shorts off as he goes. He watches hungrily when Jensen pushes his down and kicks them off, and then Jensen's crawling up on the bed with him, dropping hungry, hot kisses as he turns himself around.

"Sixty-nine," Jared manages hoarsely. "My favorite number." He shudders at the first touch of Jensen's tongue against his cock and reaches up to cup Jensen's balls, stroking and rubbing, feeling the fullness. Jensen takes him deep, swallowing him down until Jared can feel his cockhead nudging the back of Jensen's throat, and God, it's beyond good. 

He hooks his hands around Jensen's thighs and goes back to licking and sucking, tongue dragging up and down Jensen's shaft, losing his rhythm every time Jensen swallows around him. 

It's hard to concentrate on anything when Jensen's mouth is working him over, and Jared's already so close it's embarrassing, but he doesn't want to leave Jensen hanging, either. He pulls back to palm Jensen's ass, rubbing and squeezing, dipping into the cleft, then wets a finger in his mouth and circles the small pucker, pressing in gently when Jensen grunts and pushes back. 

"You like getting fucked, Jen? Like having fingers or a cock filling you up?" Jared doesn't expect an answer -- not a verbal one, anyway. Instead he gets a hum rippling around him, making him throb inside Jensen's mouth. "Gonna fuck you later. Hold you open and slide in, thick and hot inside you--oh, God, Jen--"

Jared fucks upward into Jensen's mouth, heat spiraling outward, tingling and surging along his nerve endings. Orgasm blindsides him, races through him, spills out of him hot pulses, and Jensen swallows it, throat working him gently, persistently, until Jared's dizzy with it.

He comes back to himself with Jensen straining over him, quiet whimpers and hisses, and takes Jensen in hand, stroking quickly. He pulls Jensen down toward him, licking at Jensen's hole, tonguing his perineum and lapping at his balls while jacking him. Jensen groans long and low as he comes, spattering thick heat over Jared's chest and belly.

"Oh, my God," Jensen groans, flopping down beside Jared like his bones have been replaced by spaghetti. Jared's feeling pretty boneless himself, but he forces himself to move enough to turn toward Jensen, reaching to tug the comforter up over them. "Jesus, Jay."

"Mmm." Boneless, mindless, oh yeah. Jared's feeling pretty fucked out, actually. He leans in for a kiss, sweet and slow, and tastes himself on Jensen's tongue. "That was fucking awesome." Jared yawns around the words, and laughs when Jensen yawns in response.

"It really was." Jensen sounds relaxed, already half-asleep. Jared thinks that's a good idea, actually, sleeping. He snuggles in closer, wrapping his arms around Jensen, and smiles when Jensen mutters, "gotta do it again in the morning."

Jared brushes a kiss over Jensen's jaw and whispers, "count on it."

~~~~~

Jensen's still asleep when Jared wakes up, and he grunts when Jared gets up before rolling toward the warm spot. Jared snorts, then scratches idly at the dried mess on his chest and decides a shower is definitely in order. Right after he lets the dogs out--

"Hey! Jen, wake up, man. It's Christmas!" Jensen grunts again and curls in on himself, so Jared feels compelled to jump on the bed, bouncing a couple of times. "Get up get up get up, c'mon."

"God, how old are you? 'S too early to get up." 

"But it's Christmas morning. C'mon, man." Jared can't even imagine not being excited about Christmas morning. 

Jensen pulls the covers up over his head, and Jared scowls down at the lump in his bed. Maybe some coffee would help, or maybe breakfast? What about--

Jared leans in close. "You wanna shower together?"

There's movement under the covers, then Jensen's looking blearily up at him. "You don't play fair. What time is it, anyway?"

Jared glances at the clock. "A little after eight. Not early at _all_." He scratches his chest again; sweat and come really itch after they dry. "I'm gonna let the dogs out, if you want to get up and get the shower started?"

Jensen grimaces as he pushes the covers back, and then Jared forgets all about itching, or dogs, or anything else. He had Jensen's body against his last night, tasted and touched him, felt Jensen move against him--but now. Now he's getting a good look in the morning light filtering in through the blinds, and holy shit, Jensen's gorgeous. Long and lean, muscles flexing beneath winter-pale skin, biceps bulging just a little as he pushes himself up. Jensen looks up at him and smiles.

"Like what you see?"

"God, yes." Jared takes one step forward, stopping automatically when Jensen holds a hand up. "What?"

"Let the dogs out. I'm gonna go start the shower." He gives Jared a wicked grin that starts his blood heating. "Meet you in there in a minute?"

"Hell, yes." Less, if he can figure out how to teleport.

~~~~~

They trade slow, lazy kisses while standing under the shower spray, then soap each other up and rinse off. In between, Jared drops to his knees and blows Jensen, groaning happily when Jensen tangles his fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling and holding Jared close when he comes.

Jared licks Jensen clean, then leans back on his haunches and jerks himself off while Jensen watches, his gaze scorching Jared's skin.

The water is just this side of cool by the time they actually get around to the washing-off part, and it's cold when they finally shut it off and climb out of the shower. It's all Jared can do to keep his hands to himself when Jensen bends over to towel his legs off, his gorgeous ass on display. Then he remembers he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself, and closes the distance between them to touch, to run his fingers down the cleft, lingering briefly on the small, tight pucker hidden there.

"Gonna need another shower if you keep doing that," Jensen mutters, straightening up. "And much as I'd love to climb back in bed and have you fuck me, I need coffee and food before I can think about anything else."

"You are so not a morning person, are you?" Jared pinches Jensen's ass, then steps away to find clean sweats and a t-shirt.

"Not even close. What gave it away?" Jensen picks up his sweats from last night, and frowns at them. "I'm gonna run downstairs and find some clean clothes."

"'Kay." Jared's stuck in his t-shirt, damn wet spots on his back he didn't catch, and by the time he has himself freed from it, Jensen's gone.

The living room is kind of a mess, carton of eggnog still on the coffee table, with the (fortunately) capped bottle of rum sitting beside it. Well, the mostly empty bottle of rum. It's even more fortunate that whichever one of them was the last to cut some fudge last night put the lid back on the cookie tin when they were finished, because Jared would totally not put it past either dog to ignore the enticing scent of chocolate if left alone with it.

He turns the television off – stuck on the endless loop of Die Hard 2's main menu – and opens the curtains just enough to let some light in. Outside is muted light, and the sky is overcast with clouds pregnant and heavy with snow.

"Hey," he hollers down the stairs. "You want coffee?"

"Hell, yes," Jensen hollers back, just before appearing at the top of the stairs. "Want me to get it started?"

"Yeah. Please." Jared turns back to the coffee table, and begins gathering up the dirty dishes and assorted bottles. "There's a pan of cinnamon rolls in the fridge, too – Sandy sent them home with me the other day. She makes the best homemade cinnamon rolls, ever. They just need to warm up in the oven."

"Gotcha."

By the time Jared's brought in the detritus from the living room and fed and watered the dogs, the kitchen is full of the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee, and Jared's stomach is rumbling. They take their plates and mugs into the living room and settle on the couch, and then Jared remembers what he hid away in his closet the other day, so Jensen wouldn't find it, and that he forgot about last night, when he was busy with getting off and getting Jensen off (and if last night doesn't qualify as the best Christmas present in the history of ever, Jared isn't sure what would).

"Hang on, be right back." He dashes off, leaving Jensen staring at him, and digs around in his closet until he finds the stocking he found and stuffed the other day, in a fit of wanting Jensen to have a good Christmas. Jensen's in mid-bite when Jared reappears, and he takes the stocking with a bemused look at Jared while he chews and swallows.

"So, what, you're Santa Claus now?"

"Ho ho ho." Jared picks up his cinnamon roll and breathes in the scent of it before taking a bite. "My folks always do a stocking for the three of us, and, well—" He trails off when he realizes Jensen is grinning at him. "Shut up. I wanted you to have one to open, too."

Jensen's expression changes, becomes something softer, and he leans in and gives Jared a quick kiss that's coffee-and-cinnamon flavored. "Thanks, man."

Jared waves his hand. "It's _Christmas_ ," he says, and hopes Jensen understands. "Anyway, uh. There's some stuff under the tree for you, too. Possiblyonefrommymomma," he adds in a rush, flushing a bit. "I guess, um. Maybe I've mentioned you a few times." A few times, times a thousand, Jared thinks. 

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jared focuses on finishing his coffee, not looking at Jensen. Whatever they are now – boyfriends? Friends with benefits? – he doesn't really want to talk about it. If it was a fluke, and Jensen's going to freak out about it later, Jared's happy to put that off until the last moment possible.

"Jay." Jensen waves a hand in front of Jared's face, and he focuses on that. 

"Huh?"

"You okay?"

"I have no idea." Jared frowns. "You're not—straight. Are you?"

Jensen shakes his head. "Not even a little bit."

"Then…why…because we, I mean, it's good, right? Between us. So why—" Jared doesn't have a clue what he's trying to say, and dammit, how'd he end up talking about something he didn't want to talk about?

"I'm—it's complicated, okay?" Jensen's frowning, staring at the Christmas tree like it has all the answers. "I'm not out. Except to a few friends. And my parents, who promptly decided they didn't want to hear that, and until I show up with a nice girl in tow, I'm pretty much not welcome at their house."

"That's why you don't talk to them much." It makes a lot more sense with this information than with the vague answers Jensen gave him initially.

"Yeah. But anyway, I don't…I don't do relationships, Jared. Never have. One-nighters, most of the time. Pick up someone at a bar, or whatever—I go down to Denver, hit up the gay bars there."

"Nothing down here? And no boyfriend, ever?" That seems so sad, so _lonely_ , Jared can't wrap his head around it. Plus, he wants to ask _what about me? What about us? We're good together, we could have this._

"No." Jensen sighs and sets his cup down. "Never really wanted one, honestly, 'til—'til I met you."

He doesn't say anything else, just looks at Jared, and Jared wants…Jared wants. Wants to know if Jensen thinks of him as a boyfriend, and why it took so long to get here, how long it might last, because while he has nothing against one-night stands in general, he's more of a relationship sort of guy.

The silence stretches out, weird and a little awkward until Jensen picks the stocking back up and looks at it, smile curving his lips slightly. "I can't believe you got me a stocking."

"Yeah, well, everyone should have a stocking to open on Christmas morning." Jared leans over and sets his mug on the coffee table, then sits down in front of the tree. "C'mon over here," he says, patting the spot beside him. Jensen settles in next to him without comment, warm and solid, shoulder bumping with Jared's.

"Hey," Jensen says softly. Jared turns his head to look at him questioningly, and Jensen kisses him, a gentle, soft, closed-mouth kiss. "Merry Christmas," he says, brushing another kiss over Jared's mouth. A third kiss follows, and then a fourth, and Jared feels a little dizzy when they separate, his mouth tingling pleasantly.

"Merry Christmas," he manages, smiling in response to Jensen's smile. "Now open your stocking, bitch."

Jensen clucks. "Such language. You kiss your momma with that mouth?"

Jared bumps his shoulder against Jensen's. "Nope. Got a different mouth to kiss my momma." 

Jensen cracks up. "Wise-ass."

Jared's stocking is full of things like socks, and a new deck of playing cards, a couple of gift cards to Blockbuster, and another one to Baskin Robbins. There's also one of those foil-wrapped chocolate oranges, and a bag of sour gummy worms that he opens immediately, ignoring Jensen's snort of laughter.

He had a good time filling up the stocking for Jensen, and it's as much fun to watch Jensen pull the small, oddly shaped packages out as it was to stuff them all in there. There's a package of golf balls, and some new golfing gloves, as well as gift cards to Starbucks and McDonalds. There's a book of crossword puzzles, and a goofy pair of sunglasses Jared is sure Jensen won't ever wear outside of the house, and a pair of fuzzy, stripped slipper-socks. Jensen holds these up and squints at them, then frowns at Jared.

"I think if I wear these, I'll end up dizzy."

"What, purple-and-red aren't your favorite colors?" Jared digs a couple of packages out from under the tree and tosses them toward Jensen.

"Not together, man." But Jensen pulls them on over his bare feet anyway, before moving on to opening the other packages.

The package from Jared's momma is a needlepoint, a simple "Home, Sweet Home" design done in bright, cheerful colors and framed like a picture. Jensen smiles at it, then hands Jared the note that fluttered down from inside the wrapping paper.

_Jensen,_

_Jared's talked about you so much I feel as if we know you already. I know you've had some very unfortunate things happen to you lately, and I want you to know that Gerry and I are keeping you in our prayers._

_Sherry Padalecki_

 

"Talked about me so much, huh?" The smile he gives Jared makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Jared's face feels like it's on fire. He folds the note up and hands it back to Jensen, mumbling, "I might've mentioned you a few times."

Jensen smiles, then looks down at his lap. "If it makes you feel better, Chris is tired of hearing about you."

That's actually kind of encouraging, and Jared's happy to hear it. Maybe he's not the only one who's been obsessing.

The gifts pile up on either side of them, sweaters and movies, a new PSP and games for Jensen from Chris, a snowboard for Jared from his folks. Megan sent gift cards to both Jared and Jensen for Showcase Cinemas, and Jared is surprised by a set of books from Jensen on urban legends, ghost stories and supernatural phenomena. He also got Jared a new dictionary and thesaurus, matching volumes that have the date scribbled in the front, and "For my favorite word geek, Love Jensen" under it.

The books and the inscription make Jared happy, but it's the 'Love, Jensen' that's making him deliriously happy. He spends a minute rubbing his finger over the words, letting warmth flow through him, then sets the books aside to get his last present to Jensen out.

Jensen takes the large package and leans back against the chair behind him. "If this is a cookware set, I'm totally not putting out tonight."

Jared smirks. "You would so. And cookware makes an awesome gift; you're just too lame to know that."

"Says the man who is nothing but a walking stomach." Jensen slides his finger along the seam of the package, undoing the tape, and glances up at Jared. "Actually, it's kind of creepy, when you think about it--a huge stomach on legs--holy shit, Jared."

"You like it?"

Jensen's staring down at the box with wide eyes, and it's a moment or two before he even nods, fingers tracing over the box the guitar comes in. He opens it carefully, almost reverently, and it's all Jared can do to stay sitting when Jensen opens the box up and takes the guitar out.

Jared doesn't know a lot about guitars, but Chris, as it turned out, does. He'd been really helpful, taking time to drive with Jared down to Denver to a shop that sells instruments and specializes in guitars. The one Jensen's still stroking with gentle, loving fingers is made of cherry, mahogany and maple. Even Jared could see it was gorgeous, and he hadn't flinched at the price tag; he wanted Jensen to have something good, something special.

"It's gorgeous, Jay. I don't--I never thought--"

"I know it's not going to replace the one you lost, but I thought you might, that it could--"

"Jared. It's perfect. Thank you." Jensen plucks lightly at the strings, his face soft and open, eyes focused on his fingers. "How'd you know?"

"I had a little help." Jared smiles at the look Jensen gives him.

"Chris?"

"I just told him I wanted to get something, y'know, that you'd really like. Something," and damn if his face isn't heating up, "something special."

"It is. It really is." Jensen coaxes a couple more notes out of the strings, then sets it aside and leans forward, cupping the back of Jared's head gently. "C'mere."

"Promise me you'll play for me, later?" Jared whispers the words against Jensen's mouth, smiles into the kiss when Jensen says, "I promise."

~~~~~

It starts snowing again a little past noon, and by three, when Jared's getting ready to carve the roast, it's hard to see anything but swirling, blowing snow.

"I know it's cool to have a white Christmas," Jensen says, digging in the refrigerator for the butter Jared thought he'd gotten out already. He straightens up, holding it out triumphantly. "Hah. But this is kind of ridiculous." He glances toward the sliding doors, blinds pulled open so they can watch the snow falling.

"I like it." Jared sets the big bowl of homemade noodles on the table, along with the platter of roast. "Grab the potatoes, wouldja?"

"Are we carb loading and you just forgot to tell me?" Jensen hands over the bowl of mashed potatoes.

"Smart-ass. There's baby carrots and green beans, too." And homemade cranberry sauce, but Jensen's already expressed his horror over cranberries. Jared isn't sure how it's possible not to at least like the homemade stuff. He doesn't like the canned crap, but that's not really cranberry sauce as much as bitter, weird gelatin.

"Seriously, you put the noodles _over_ the potatoes?" 

"You can put them over anything you want. I put 'em over the potatoes, yeah, 'cos that's how I've always eaten them." Jared's starving, so he doesn't waste any time digging in. The cinnamon rolls from earlier are nothing but a dim memory, and he intentionally didn't eat lunch. "It's not like store-bought noodles, man. These are homemade--my great-grandma's recipe. Momma always sends some to me around the holidays."

"Hmm." Jensen nods absently, eyes fixed on the snow outside. He refocuses on dinner and smiles at Jared ladling a big spoonful of the noodles and their gravy over the potatoes. "Guess I'll try it that way. But seriously, dude, do you have any idea how many carbs are in this meal?"

"Not even thinking about it." Jared closes his eyes at the first bite; the noodles are just slightly chewy, a much heavier dough than their mass-produced counterparts, and swimming in a gravy made of the drippings from the roast. The roast itself is tender, juicy, melt-in-your-mouth. "God, this turned out perfect." He opens his eyes in time to see Jensen taking his first bite, and grins at his expression. "Well?"

"I think I'm never going to eat packaged noodles again," Jensen says around a mouthful. 

Jared nods happily, and raises his beer bottle. "Merry Christmas, man."

Jensen clinks his bottle gently against Jared's, then finishes chewing and swallowing. "Merry Christmas, Jared."

~~~~~

The power cuts out about ten minutes after they've finished putting leftovers away and doing up the dishes. One minute the kitchen is bright, filled with light and the sounds of Christmas music coming from the stereo Jared turned on when they were getting dinner going, and the next it's dim and quiet.

"Well, shit." Jared frowns at the snowstorm outside. "Depending on how long the power's out, it might get kind of chilly in here."

Jensen shrugs. "We can always make our own heat."

"I don't have much firewood in the house, dude. Most of it's outside, buried in snow."

"I really wasn't thinking about the fireplace, Jay." 

Jensen stares at Jared for a long moment, and Jared's pretty sure when the light bulb goes on over his head that it's visible to anyone within a hundred miles. He smacks his forehead. "Geez. In my own defense, I've just spent the last month or so telling myself not to think stuff like that with you in the same space as me. It's going to take me a little while to recondition my responses." 

Jensen laughs at him, then steps closer. "I think it's getting chillier in here already." 

His eyes are absolutely gorgeous, Jared thinks, closing the remaining space between them. "I think you're right. We should work on that making heat thing." He kisses Jensen, just whisper-soft brushes of his mouth over Jensen's, followed by more teasing touches to Jensen's jaw, up to his ear. "Got a big, soft bed just waiting."

"Thank God," Jensen says, reaching out to rub his thumbs over Jared's nipples. "I still can't believe you've got freakin' pierced nipples. It's insanely hot."

"Good." Jared leans into the touches, sighing with pleasure when Jensen tugs on them through his t-shirt. 

"What's it like?" Jensen's still tugging, pinching, pulling on the rings while Jared guides them slowly backward toward his bedroom. 

"Intense. Really intense." Jared shudders and bumps into the wall, banging his elbow. "Ow. Hang on, lets get in the bedroom."

"Yeah. Don't want to break you." Jensen's eyes promise otherwise, and Jared's pretty sure he doesn't care if he's broken or not, except for where if he's broken he won't get to have fabulous sex with Jensen.

They close the door behind them, Jared laughing softly when Jensen double-checks it. "They're all blissed out from having real food mixed with their dog food," he says, reaching for the bottom of his shirt. "They could care less about coming in here."

"Just making sure, Jay." Jensen knocks his fingers away and tugs Jared's shirt up himself. "I think you've scarred me forever about those mutts."

"You love my mutts," Jared mutters, drawing in a sharp breath when Jensen leans down and latches on to one nipple. "God."

"Yeah, but not in bed." Jensen sucks again, flicking at the ring with his tongue until Jared's sure his eyes are rolling back in his head. "Speaking of bed--"

"Uh-huh." It's hard to catch his breath. "Get--" Jared waves his hands toward Jensen, hoping the _get your clothes off_ is understood. 

It must be, because Jensen releases his hold on Jared and reaches for his shirt while Jared shimmies out of his sweats. They tumble onto the bed, still mussed from sleeping, navy sheets and red-and-blue plaid comforter brilliant splashes of color in the dimly lit room.

"Wanna fuck you," Jared whispers, nipping at Jensen's jaw. He sucks on the tender skin just beneath Jensen's ear, then on the lobe. "Say yes."

"God, yes." Jensen shivers beneath Jared, tilting his head back in invitation. "Want it."

There's so much Jared wants to do, like taste every inch of Jensen's skin, or find out if he's ticklish anywhere. He wants to nuzzle and bite, and find out what makes Jensen writhe with pleasure, or groan or growl. He wants to tease him, then watch him come. Wants Jensen's knees over his shoulders; wants to watch Jensen ride him. 

"You waitin' for an engraved invitation?" Jensen wiggles against him, then shifts until Jared's settled firmly between his thighs, bringing them even closer together. 

"Christ, you're pushy." Jared nips at Jensen's mouth, then kisses him long and deep, tongue teasing around an around the inside of Jensen's mouth. "Thinkin' about all the things I wanna do. You feel so good," he licks at Jensen's mouth again, sucks on his lower lip. "Taste good." Another kiss, slow and sweet, and Jared licks words into Jensen's mouth. "Dreamed about this. Wanted this for so long, Jen."

The mood shifts abruptly, from frantic and needy to something slower, deeper, more. Jared knows Jensen feels it, too; Jensen's eyes darken, soften. He holds Jared close, fingers twined in Jared's hair, rubbing up against him while they kiss.

There's a moment of uncoordinated-ness, when Jared's trying to find lube and a condom without breaking the kiss or moving away from Jensen. He can't do it, though; has to pull away to fumble in his nightstand drawer until he comes up with both items. He's a little surprised to notice his hands shaking, and takes a deep breath to settle himself. He's acting like he's never gotten laid before; like he's never been with a guy before, which is so not the case. 

"Hey." Jensen takes the condom and pushes at Jared until he rolls onto his back. "It's gonna be good, Jay."

"I know. Just--"

"Yeah. I know." Jensen's smile makes something inside Jared twist tight, heat spreading through him. Then Jensen's rolling the condom down over his dick and Jared's aware of a different sort of heat, the kind that makes him want to thrust his hips up until he's buried to the hilt inside Jensen. He actually does thrust upward, into the tunnel of Jensen's hand, and Jensen squeezes lightly. "Hang on." 

Jensen moves up and over Jared, kneeling over his thighs, and reaches for one of Jared's hands. "Just a little prep," he says, squeezing lube onto Jared's fingers before guiding them back.

Jared touched Jensen here last night; tasted him, felt the small pucker open. It was nothing compared to this, to the feel of smooth, heated muscle closing around his fingers as he pushes in, inner walls clinging when Jared moves them, twisting and opening them. Jensen closes his eyes and rocks slowly, riding Jared's fingers while his cock jerks, curving upward toward his belly.

Jared swallows hard, slipping his fingers back out and reaching for the lube. "Jen--"

"Yeah. C'mon. Want you."

Pushing in is so far beyond good it makes Jared light-headed. Jensen is tight, hot, his body taking Jared in, surrounding him, clenching around him. Jared wants to take it slow, ease them into it, but Jensen moves, rocks downward until Jared bottoms out, buried fully inside, shuddering when Jensen takes a deep breath, hissing it out again.

"Oh, god. God--" Jared holds his breath while Jensen shifts over him, hands going to Jensen's hips to steady him. "So good."

"Christ, yes." Jensen's voice is wrecked, deep and throaty, hoarse like he's been screaming. "Gotta move, Jay. Need to."

There's nothing Jared wants more, and his fingers bite into Jensen's sides, white at the tips with the pressure. "Yes. Please, yes." 

He's gorgeous, moving over Jared, rocking up and down. Jared rolls his hips and groans when Jensen flexes around him, ripples of sensation dancing all through him. It's slow at first, languid movements that tease as much as anything. Jared draws Jensen down for a kiss, tasting his warmth, his want, the growing need. Jensen groans into the kiss when Jared wraps one hand around his dick and strokes slowly, root to tip before dragging his fingertip through the wetness smearing at the tip.

Jensen hisses out something that sounds like 'yes' and rocks forward into Jared's touch, then back again, meeting Jared when he thrusts upward. It's an intricate, complex dance as they move faster, faster, bodies sweating lightly in the cool room. Kisses are more lips crashing together, the air filled with wet sounds and soft grunts. Jared strokes Jensen faster, feels his dick swelling, throbbing, until Jensen is groaning and thrusting forward, body clenching down tightly around Jared's as he comes, a velvet vise holding Jared fast as he spurts over Jared's hand and chest.

Jared rolls them, then, driving himself over and over into Jensen, each thrust sending sparks across his nerve-endings; splinters of heat and light he feels everywhere. Jensen draws his legs up, pulling Jared close, closer, until there's no separating them, no telling where one ends and the other begins.

"C'mon, I want it, give it to me." Jensen growls into Jared's ear, and Jared shakes above him, dick swelling inside Jensen, throbbing with every heartbeat. He groans when he comes, thick heat coming with each spasm, and Jensen encouraging him, voice low and thick, "god, I can feel you, wanna feel it bare some time, just you and me, you coming inside me--"

Jared thrusts through his orgasm, grunting with each one, wanting to keep going until he can't any more. It's just this side of painful, and it feels so fucking good he thinks he's going to explode with it before it ends.

It's a close thing, not collapsing down on Jensen, and Jared's proud of himself for it. He manages to support his weight long enough to shift, wishing he didn't have to pull out but knowing he's got to, or he'll end up suffocating Jensen when he can't hold himself up any longer. He shifts, grabbing at the condom as he slides out, then tying it off and lobbing it in the direction of his trashcan.

"God," he manages, feeling absolutely boneless. 

"Mmm." Jensen has his eyes closed, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth. Jared finds himself smiling in response, and curls closer, settling one leg over Jensen's.

"Warm enough, now?" 

"Oh, yeah." Jensen turns his head and nuzzles at Jared, but doesn't open his eyes. "Nap-time," he says softly, the words puffs of air against Jared's mouth. Jared thinks that's an awesome idea and gropes for the comforter.

Maybe the power will be on shortly, and if it's not, well. They can always generate some more heat.

~~~~~

It's fully dark when Jared wakes up, urgent pressure from his bladder dragging him out of a really weird dream where he was designing a high-rise condo for talking donkeys that wanted to migrate from Africa.

He staggers to the bathroom and holds himself upright by leaning one arm against the wall while he pisses. There's light showing beneath the bedroom door, and when Jared returns to his bedroom, the clock radio on his dresser is blinking incessantly.

Power's back on, then.

He pulls on the first pair of sweatpants he finds in the dark, then trips over Harley who's curled up right outside the door, and bangs his head when he hits the wall. 

"Son-of-a-bitch--" Harley whines and shakes himself, and Jared sighs, reaching down to pat him gently. Behind him, through the open door, Jared hears Jensen snuffle and roll over, then resume snoring softly, and he smiles. "C'mon, boy, I'll let you guys out."

Sadie's asleep in front of the patio door, waking and stretching when Jared and Harley make their way into the kitchen. Jared grabs his watch off the counter -- it's 7:44p -- and flips the outside light on. He's mildly alarmed to see what looks like about three feet of snow piled up on his patio, and even more in drifts and banks out further in the yard. 

"Out front it is, then," he says quietly, and then has to revise that when he can't get the front door open all the way. "Fuck. Guess you're gonna have to do your business in the garage." Sadie whines and Harley barks once, and Jared sighs. "It's not my fault, guys. I didn't ask for a bajillion feet of snow."

By the time the dogs are finally convinced to do their thing on some newspapers he lays down in one corner, Jared's sure his nuts have frozen, never mind his feet and other exposed body parts. He herds Harley and Sadie back inside and heads up the stairs, then nearly has a heart attack on the spot when Jensen pops up seemingly out of nowhere.

"Jesus Christ!" Is the only thing that comes out of his mouth, but Jared finds it comforting when he's clutching at his chest that Jensen is, too, his eyes wide and dark, a shocked look on his face. "Jen. Dude, you scared the shit outta me."

"Likewise." Jensen sits down and eyes Jared. "I thought I heard something--"

"Just had to let the mutts out," Jared says, rummaging around in the fridge for his coffee can. His whole body feels numb with cold.

"You went _outside_?" Jensen eyes him like he wants to add "you crazy dumbass" to that.

"Just in the garage. There's too much snow to let the dogs outside. Gonna be a hell of a time, shoveling it out."

"Ah, the joys of homeownership," Jensen smirks at him.

"Oh, bite me."

That gets him a grin. "Happily. Come a little closer." 

"Coffee first. I'm fucking freezing."

Jensen comes up behind Jared then, wrapping around him like a living blanket. "Could come back to bed, instead." He nuzzles at Jared's neck, biting and then sucking. "I promise I'll warm you up." Another nuzzle, and then Jensen's rubbing and cupping Jared's dick through his sweats, laughing softly when Jared starts swelling from the touches.

"You're evil," Jared says, rubbing back to feel Jensen already growing thick and hard. "How'm I supposed to say no with you doing that?"

"You're not." Jensen's all hands now, stroking and touching, pinching and tugging, and Jared feels warmer already. "C'mon, Jay."

Jared heaves a big sigh. "If I _have_ to." He laughs when Jensen bites his shoulder. "Ow, fucker. Lemme turn stuff off, and then you can have your wicked way with me."

Jensen smiles, innocent and dirty all at once, his lips still swollen from earlier kisses, and opens the fridge to grab some water. "Awesome."

It really is awesome, and Jared's still not completely sure it isn't all a dream. If it is, though, he's going to make the most of it while he has it.

~~~~~

The Christmas Day blizzard drops four feet of snow on them, and even more higher up in the mountains. Add in the high winds that came with the storm, and there are snow banks and drifts exceeding ten feet high in some areas. Watching the news over the next several days shows pictures and video clips of people slowly digging their way out, as well as the people who had to be rescued when their cars or trucks slid off the roads, or into embankments.

Denver shuts its airport down for the first time in ages, and Jared's glad he wasn't one of the many people stuck there for days, waiting for things to clear enough for the planes to take off and land again.

He doesn't get to call home for a few days, since along with the power lines, the phones went down for awhile, and actually took longer to be restored. His folks aren't even back in the US yet anyway, and Megan and Jeff were concerned, but not panicked -- and both were glad not to be up in Colorado for the storm.

Jensen helps him shovel out the driveway, which leads to a massive snowball fight, and then an all-out war when the neighborhood kids join them. They've only just gotten the driveway completely cleared when a plow goes by and dumps a bunch of snow back onto it. Jared actually worries about Jensen's blood pressure then, he gets so red-faced and angry, yelling ineffectually at the snowplow as it moves onward.

They wait a few hours, drying off and warming up, before going back outside to shovel off the patio (Jensen mutters under his breath about how at least the snowplows aren't going to appear _here_ and mess things up) so the dogs can go outside, though Harley whines and balks when Jared opens the back door. 

"It's just snow, you big baby. You run and play in it all the time." Jared pushes the dog, who is pushing against him, resisting. "Go _on_ , Harley. Oof. Get out there and do your thing and be glad I'm not making you pee in the garage, again."

"I don't think it'd be all that comfortable to be squatting in the snow while I'm taking a leak," Jensen says, leaning casually against the doorframe. Jared blows his bangs out of his eyes and scowls.

"It's never bothered him before."

"Yeah, well the snow's like, waist-deep. On _you_. That's a lot more than a couple inches, dude."

"Okay, fine, maybe it's not that comfortable. But he's done nothing but whine when I took him out into the garage -- there aren't many more options."

Jensen holds his hands up. "Hey, impartial bystander here. I was just commenting."

"No, I know." Jared huffs again, and gives Jensen a crooked smile when he reaches out to brush the hair out of Jared's eyes. "Thanks. I just--I think I got cabin fever, man. Too many days stuck inside."

"Wanna go out and play in the snow?" Jensen raises an eyebrow. "We could go play in bed, but I think my dick's worn out."

"My dick's just fine. Sucks to be an old man, doesn't it?" Jared says, ducking behind the table when Jensen growls at him.

"I'll show you old, dude."

"Promises, promises," Jared shouts, darting toward the stairs. If he's lucky, Jensen will catch him by the time he gets to the bottom, and then they can try out the air mattress Jensen hasn't slept on in days.

~~~~~

Jared ends up spending most of his vacation sleeping, fucking or writing, with no skiing happening. Sure, once the plows and whatnot are able to get out and get things cleared, it's easier to get around, but the news was full of reports of a lot of the mountain roads closed not only from the blizzard, but also from avalanches. Jared doesn't actually have a death wish, in spite of his momma's thoughts about him hurling himself down the side of a mountain, and decides not to risk the roads right now, while everything is still so shaken up. It's just the end of December; he has plenty of time to go skiing before the season is over.

Jensen doesn't have three weeks off like Jared; he's back to work by New Year's, though he takes New Year's Eve and the first off. They spend the evening snuggled on the couch watching the _Aliens_ movies and waiting for the countdown to midnight.

When it comes, Jensen pulls Jared close and kisses him, sweet and hot, tongue still cool from the champagne they've spent the evening drinking.

The bubbles make Jared feel light as air, and he tethers himself to Jensen, clinging to handfuls of Jensen's shirt, the warm, stretched fabric bunching in his grip.

"Happy new year," he whispers into the kiss.

"Best one ever," Jensen tells him, pulling out of the kiss, then leaning in to rest his forehead against Jared's. "Seriously."

His eyes are dark, dilated, and so full of warmth it makes Jared ache for seeing it. He rubs his fingers against the short hair at the nape of Jensen's neck, then cups his head and leans back in, mouth already open, seeking Jensen's. _I love you,_ he thinks, drinking down the taste of Jensen, swallowing his breathless little moans and whimpers. _I think I could love you for forever._

They make love there on the floor, beside the Christmas tree, bodies dotted with red, green, blue and gold from the lights. Jared wants to say the words to Jensen; wants to hear Jensen say them back. He tries to say it with his body instead, with tender touches and soft kisses. Jensen holds him close while they rock together, bodies slick with sweat, even slicker when they come, wet heat spreading between them. Jared slides down Jensen's body, licking him clean, then returns to kiss Jensen again, sharing the taste of them mingled together.

"Need to clean you off, now," Jensen says softly, leaning in to lap at Jared's chest. Jared's hard again by the time Jensen's done, and he arches upward when Jensen takes him into his mouth, hips thrusting gently, then harder when Jensen groans low in his throat in encouragement.

Jensen traces a finger down over Jared's balls, then further back, circling his hole and making Jared shiver with want. He spreads his legs and drags Jensen's free hand up to his mouth, sucking two fingers in to wet them down.

"Touch me," he says, releasing Jensen's hand, his throat dry and voice hoarse. "Please." 

Jensen doesn't answer, not with words. Instead he rubs his wet fingers over Jared's hole, then presses gently, harder, breaching Jared with a muffled sound that vibrates all along Jared's cock. Jared rocks up into Jensen's mouth, then down to the fingers twisting slowly inside him, groaning as hunger ratchets up with each movement.

Jensen pulls off him long enough to gasp, "C'mon, Jay, give it up. Give it to me," before leaning down to take Jared back into his mouth. He licks at the tip of Jared's dick then sucks downward, fucking his fingers in and out of Jared faster, grunting when Jared grips at the back of his head, holding him steady.

Jared comes with a hitching breath that ends up as a groan, his muscles tightening, clenching, heat spiraling outward through his body. Jensen takes him deep then releases him, licking at the spatters of come that land on his lips. He jerks Jared through the last couple of spasms, then grips himself with the same hand and jacks off, cock hard and wet already. Jared reaches down to cup Jensen's balls, rolling and squeezing them gently, rubbing and pressing against the smooth skin behind them until Jensen's shaking above him, quiet whimpers as his body tenses and he comes, thick stripes of spunk spattering onto Jared's belly.

They lie there quietly, then, Jensen with his head on Jared's chest, Jared with one arm around Jensen, their breathing slowing down and evening out. It's cool inside the house, almost too chilly to lay naked in the living room, but Jared doesn't want to move. He wants to stay right here, just like this, for as long as possible.

They might've fallen asleep like that, curled against each other and trading sleepy kisses, except for Harley coming in and snuffling over them, pulling Jared out of his light doze. Jensen makes a really undignified shriek and jumps up, startling Harley into barking. 

"Your dogs, I swear." Jensen stretches a hand out to Jared. "C'mon, sasquatch. Let's take a shower and head for bed."

Jared lets himself be pulled upright, and once he's standing he snugs in close to Jensen and kisses him again. "Shower sounds good. Bed sounds better."

"Insatiable." Jensen returns the kiss. 

"Nah, not really. Kind of just--just wanna hold you."

Jensen raises an eyebrow at that, but nods, and turns Jared gently toward the bedroom. "Sounds good, man. Let's do it."

~~~~~

Jensen's things begin a slow migration from the basement up to the rest of the house. Jared cleans out a few drawers in his dresser and shoves things around in his closet to make room for some of them; other things, like Jensen's guitar, make their own spot, leaning in a corner of the living room. They add a second desk to Jared's office, small, basic, just enough to hold Jensen's laptop and some file folders. Jared buys another bookcase, and a router, so they can be wireless.

Being domestic feels good. Jared really likes coming home from work and having someone to discuss the day with -- someone who isn't four-legged, with a wagging tail. 

He likes cuddling at night, though Jensen's not always around when Jared goes to bed, depending on what he's working on. He's still around enough, and there are a lot of mornings when Jared's alarm goes off that Jensen's already up, dressed and shaved, with coffee brewed and waiting for Jared.

Sometimes he even has breakfast started, even if it's just toast, which always prompts Jared to ask, "so who is it, that's going to make a good wife someday?"

~~~~~

Jared tries not to think in terms of _boyfriend_ too often. He knows how he feels, what he wants; what Jensen's thinking and feeling and wanting is a mystery, and as much as Jared wants to know, he's also reluctant to rock the boat with that conversation.

That doesn't stop him from enjoying the intimacy they're sharing now, regardless of how Jensen may or may not feel.

"Hey, can I come in real quick?" Jared pokes his head around the door and catches Jensen's glance in the mirror. "I just need to grab a towel."

"Sure." Jensen lathers up his face, then picks up his razor, frowning into the mirror. "What?"

"Huh? Oh. Nothing, just." He gestures toward Jensen's reflection. "I'm just used to me, and the electric razor. It's kind of, I dunno, sexy. With the razor."

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "Sexy? Never really thought of shaving as _sexy_."

"Shut up." Jared moves up behind Jensen and sighs when Jensen leans back against him, tipping his head slightly onto Jared's shoulder. "Yeah. Like that. I wanna watch." 

"This is a thing, isn't it?" Jensen's voice is teasing, but his eyes. It's always his eyes, the green going from bright green-gold to darker, a smoky green, pupil widening, swallowing the green up. "For you."

"Maybe." Jared doesn't want to be responsible for Jensen cutting his throat, but he has to touch, just a little. He settles his hands on Jensen's waist and watches. "Just—please?"

It's weird, being this close like this, while Jensen shaves. The razor makes a slick, sharp sound as it slides through the cream, and it's soothing and arousing all at once. Jensen runs it under the water each time he completes a stripe, and under the shaving cream smooth, pink skin is starting to show. Jared shivers when Jensen hands the razor to him and tilts his head back further.

"You do it," he says, voice low and hot. 

A tremor goes through Jensen when Jared slides the razor upward, cutting through the cream. Jared nuzzles the fresh bare patch, rinses the razor, and does it again. He nicks Jensen once, a tiny cut just under his jaw, and blood wells up instantly, a bright, rich red. Jared doesn't even think, doesn't hesitate, just leans in and licks at the cut. He puts his mouth over it then and sucks, biting into the skin around it and pulling heat up to the surface. Jensen shudders and turns in toward him, hand fumbling with Jared's for the razor.

The metallic clank it makes when it hits the counter jars Jared just a little, but Jensen's voice pulls him back in, smoky-dark, roughened with growing need.

"Jesus, Jared." 

Jared wants to devour Jensen, and he sucks on that spot until Jensen's shaking against him, tiny seizures rippling up and down his skin. When he pulls away, Jensen has a hickey he won't be able to hide easily, even with a collared shirt under a sweater, and Jared feels heat slithering through him at the thought he's marked Jensen.

 _Mine_.

He still tastes the bright, coppery tang of Jensen's blood on his tongue, and hunger burns bright inside him for the rest of the day.

~~~~~

Jared returns from his time off with a sense of relaxation and a big smile. Sandy takes one look at him and says, "it's about time!"

Chad's more obnoxious about it, but he means well, so Jared mostly ignores him in favor of grinning like a loon and firing paper clips and rubber bands at him whenever possible.

They both ask him questions, Sandy's are more about the relationship, romantic stuff, and Chad's are graphic enough that Sandy's pink-cheeked and even Jared's eyeing Chad uneasily -- but Jared doesn't actually come out and admit to anything beyond having a really good Christmas, and vacation.

"Whatever, dude." Chad shakes his head. "You don't gotta say it, we know. And can I just say, getting laid regularly is good for you. I think I've seen you smile more _today_ than in the last couple months." 

Chad's full of shit, obviously, because Jared's always a pretty happy, upbeat guy. He won't deny that getting laid regularly isn't good for him, though, because it so is. Jared shoots a rubber band at Chad and grins when it makes contact, making him yelp.

"I take it back, you're just as much a mean, vicious asshole as you've always been." Chad rubs his arm where the rubber band hit, and scowls at Jared. "Better be nice to me, or I'll tell your boyfriend how mean you are."

"Jensen knows better than to believe anything you tell him," Jared says, shooting another rubber band. He laughs and high-fives himself when he gets Chad on the back of the head.

"Ow, fucker! I think I need to give Jensen a call--"

"What're you calling me for?" Jensen's voice draws both Chad and Jared upright, and Jared wonders if Jensen's developing cat-like stealth, or if the bell is on the fritz.

"To tell you your boyfriend's a mean, nasty SOB." Chad rubs at the back of head again, muttering under his breath; the only word Jared can make out is his name, and he figures it's probably for the best. He turns to share a laugh with Jensen -- and ask him if _he_ heard the bell when he came in -- and blinks at the sight of Jensen standing stiffly, fingers of one hand clenched into a fist and the holding onto the check-in counter like it's supporting him.

"Jen--?" Jared takes a step forward and frowns when Jensen flinches back from him. "You okay, dude?"

"Yeah, I, um." Jensen clears his throat and relaxes slowly, fist easing out of its clench. "You want to go catch a Buffs game tonight? One of the guys had tickets he can't use; I told him I could."

"Yeah, that'd be awesome." Jared wants to ask him again if he's okay, and why he stepped away, why he flinched away--but now is so not the time. "What time's tip-off?"

"Seven."

"Want to eat in, or get something out?" Out of the corner of his eye Jared sees Chad watching curiously, probably wondering -- like Jared -- what's up with Jensen. 

"I dunno. Let me think about it?" Jensen's relaxed now, leaning casually against the check-in counter, no trace of his…whatever…a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, sure. I don't think I got anything out for tonight anyway." Jared turns when the bell chimes, and smiles at Jensen. "See you later?"

Jensen nods, turning away before Jared gets a chance to say anything else, and calls out a hearty greeting to the officer who just walked in as he passes by, nothing more than a wave in Jared's direction as he exits the property room.

~~~~~

"You _told_ them?"

Jensen's waiting for Jared when he gets home, but it's not with a kiss and a smile; instead, he practically ambushes Jared, jumping out just as Jared gets through the door.

"I--what? Told who what?" It's a rough transition; Jared spent the drive home thinking about the next chapter in his book, and how he needs to go back and read the last couple of chapters, because he's pretty sure there's some unintentional sexual tension in there between Sam and Dean -- which would be fine, except that they're brothers. 

His own fault for seeing a lot of Jensen in Dean. Or Dean in Jensen.

"Told your property room buddies that we're--that I'm--he called me your boyfriend, Jay. I told you I'm not out, and you go and do this--"

"Hey--whoa. Hold on." Jared drops his backpack and stretches, then catches Jensen's eye. "I didn't say anything to anybody. I mean, they asked and inferred because I was in a good mood -- but there was no telling anybody about us. I wouldn't out someone, Jen."

"Chad called me your boyfriend," Jensen mumbles. "I heard him."

Jared isn't about to tell Jensen that Chad's been calling him Jared's boyfriend almost from the get-go. Jensen already looks freaked out, caught between anger and panic, and that would probably be enough to push him over the edge.

"Chad's a walking, talking, breathing douche. He says things on a regular basis that you gotta take with a grain or a thousand of salt, and most of it is bullshit, but he's harmless. Talking out his ass. He knows we're friends, and he knows I…like you. But that's as far as it goes."

Jensen sags down on the couch -- that's the only word for it Jared can think of -- and rubs his face with one hand. "Sorry," he mutters. "Sorry. I'm just--"

 _Paranoid_ , Jared supplies mentally. Out loud he says, "No, I get it. It's cool. Just, y'know--" _Trust me._ "Just believe in me," he finishes awkwardly. "Okay?"

"Yeah." Jensen shifts and leans back against the couch; gives Jared a small smile. "Sorry. Really." 

Jared drops down beside him, reaching for Jensen's hand. He gives it a squeeze before releasing it and leaning back himself. 

"Still want to go to the game?" Jensen sounds tired, and Jared feels it, too, but he nods. 

"Yeah, I really do. And definitely grab something out. I'm not feeling the whole cooking thing."

Jensen's quiet for a minute, then he bumps his shoulder to Jared's. "Wanna go to the Chophouse? My treat."

"You expect me to put out afterward?"

"Duh," Jensen snorts.

"Well, okay, then." Jared closes his eyes. "As long as we're clear on that."

He shifts until he's slouching down comfortably, and Jensen shifts with him so he's leaning into Jared. When Jared strokes his fingers through Jensen's hair -- longer than when they first met, which means Jensen's probably going to cut it again soon -- Jensen sighs and relaxes fully.

Jared wishes he could relax just as easily; instead he feels like he should be going on high alert.

~~~~~

Jared spends the next couple of weeks waiting for something. He's not sure what, exactly, but it makes him tense and cranky, all this waiting for some amorphous _thing_ to happen, or appear, or whatever.

It doesn't help that he's stuck on his novel, Sam and Dean at odds with one another over how to proceed with the job they're working. In his head they're fighting all the time, passive-aggressive displays of who can give the silent treatment longer, or how loud Dean can turn up his music before Sam snaps. There's a part of Jared that just wants to shove both of them into a small, dark room and wait to see if they'll fight it out or fuck it out, and he's annoyed enough with both of them he doesn't care which.

Too bad they're fictional characters, and thus can't be shoved anywhere.

On top of that they're short-handed at work, since Sera finally got accepted into Quantico. Jared thinks she'll make a kick-ass FBI agent, but her leaving makes a hole that everyone has to pitch in to fill.

Jensen's been working mid-watch lately, too, so he's not home much, and Jared hates that, too. Hates that their schedules don't synch up like they did before, so they could hang out and play video games or catch a ball game, or a hockey game. Or do anything together, like they used to. He also hates going to bed alone, even if Jensen is usually crawling in not long after Jared's called it a night, like tonight.

He doesn't let himself hope when he hears the car door shut, but when the front door opens and Harley only barks out one 'woof', Jared relaxes back against his pillows. Sure enough, a few minutes later the bedroom door opens and then the mattress dips slightly.

"Hey. You still awake?" Jensen's voice is low, soft; Jared wouldn't hear it if he wasn't still mostly awake. He rolls toward Jensen.

"Yeah."

In the dim light shining through the blinds, Jared sees Jensen smile. "Hi."

"Hi, yourself." Jared shifts, curling in close to Jensen. He smells good, crisp like the air outside must feel. "Catch some bad guys today?"

"Mmm." Jensen leans in and kisses Jared, then sits back up and toes off his sneakers. He stands up and strips everything else off before climbing back into bed. "I'm off tomorrow, and Saturday; wanna do something this weekend?"

"Something like what?" Jared scoots over until he can lie in the crook of Jensen's arm. 

"I dunno. I'm open to suggestions." Jensen pauses. "Could go up to Aspen, go skiing for the day."

"Yeah…." That sounds pretty good, actually. Jensen's told him he's not a very good skier, but he's not horrible. It could be fun. "We could do that, yeah. Go for the day, come back, maybe go to the Yard for drinks afterward?" Jensen stiffens against him, and Jared sighs. Lately, it's like picking his way through a minefield. "Sorry, sorry. Never mind. Forget that."

"I'm just not--comfortable going there. Too close to home, y'know?"

"You planning to stay in the closet for the rest of your life?" Jared knows that's not fair, but fuck fair. Every time he wants to take Jensen's hand in public he has to smash down the impulse. Every time he wants to start a sentence with, "my boyfriend", he has to squash it. He's not even sure if Jensen considers him as anything more than a friend with benefits, anyway.

Jensen's silent for what seems like a long time, lying stiffly beside Jared. "You know I'm not--and you know why I do what I do, why things are the way they are right now." Another moment of silence, then Jensen says, "it's bad enough, Chad making his comments and shit. All it would take would be for the wrong person to see something, hear something--"

"I know. Jesus, Jen, I know, okay?" Jared's fully awake now, wondering how they got from what to do for the weekend to arguing. "Just--forget I said anything. We can go skiing, that'll be good."

"Yeah." 

The silence looms over them then, huge and heavy, and Jared closes his eyes and tries counting sheep, but he loses count every time Jensen rustles or shifts beside him. He's relieved, sad and scared when Jensen sits up and says, "I'm gonna go sleep in my room." 

But he doesn't stop Jensen, either.

~~~~~

It doesn't get any better after that, although it doesn't get any worse right away. They go skiing, and actually have a good time, staying the night so they can go clubbing at the Double Diamond after a day on the slopes.

After that, though.

Jensen comes to the property room with a bunch of stuff he's returning from court, and it's shift-change, which means Mike's on, being his usual stupid, obnoxious self (really? Jared thinks Mike and Chad must be brothers. Cousins. Distantly related in some way.). He greets Jensen with a "Hi, Jenny!" and it just goes downhill from there.

"Haven't seen you since you and Jared came up for Thanksgiving," he says, talking loudly enough to be heard over the other two officers at the counter, and Sergeant Ferris's voice, which always carries. "Good thing Jared can keep me up to speed on the exciting lives you lead."

Jared wonders if he's the only one in the room who can see Jensen getting stiffer, more distant; if he's the only one who sees Jensen's eyes growing as cold as the Colorado winter.

It doesn't matter that no one is really paying any attention to what Mike's saying. It doesn't matter that the two officers standing at the counter are baby cops, part of the newest class of graduated recruits, and probably don't have a clue who "Jenny" is, and how that relates to Detective Ackles, or Jared, himself.

All that matters, as far as Jared can tell, is that Jensen hears their names linked -- again -- with comments that could -- possibly -- indicate an intimate relationship. 

Jensen doesn't come to bed with him that night; when Jared wakes up around two to use the bathroom the door to the basement is shut tight.

~~~~~

Jared's washing dishes when Jensen's cell rings, and when Jensen says, "hey, Steve," he tells Jensen he'll finish up.

"Go on, there's only a few left."

Jensen smiles his thanks and heads toward the living room, his voice echoing behind him. "Nah, nothing big, we were just doing up the dishes. Jared make sloppy Joes for dinner, and--."

Jared tunes him out at that point; goes back to the mindless task of washing, rinsing, drying. He turns the radio on to the local country station for some company, and starts putting the clean stuff away. It's mostly quiet coming from the living room, though often if Jensen and Steve haven't talked in a while, Jensen listens while Steve talks about where he's been, the shows he's done. It isn't until he hears Jensen raising his voice that he gets concerned, and he walks into the living room still drying his hands on a towel, in time to hear Jensen say, "--fuck you, Carlson. It's my business, not yours, so butt out."

When Jensen throws his cell phone at the wall, it shocks Jared into staring at Jensen, mouth open and closing with no words.

"Jen?" Is all he manages after a moment, and Jensen turns on him, mouth twisted into a snarl.

"What?"

"What--happened?"

"Apparently the whole fucking world thinks we're together." Jensen's brows draw together as his snarl turns to a frown. 

"Um." Jared really wants to add a 'duh' to that, but some inner sense warns against it. "Yeah?"

"It's not--like that. Right? We're just--Steve was all, 'ooh, so domestic, you're practically married', and we're _not_. It's, we're, it's just in here. Right? Out there," Jensen gestures toward the door, "I'm a cop, and cops can't--they, we, we don't--"

That makes Jared raise his eyebrows in surprise. Surely Jensen doesn't think he's the only queer on the force? Scratch that, the only sworn queer? "You--you're not serious?"

"As a heart attack." Jensen stares at Jared. "I told you I don't--do relationships. I never have. You're…the only person I've ever had more than a one-night stand with."

"Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but this is a relationship, dude. Jesus, Jen, what'd you think was going on, here? We sleep together, eat together, fucking shower together--go almost everywhere together. Steve's right, we might as well be married."

"Yeah, but friends do that, too. Okay, not the sleeping or showering," Jensen rolls his eyes. "But you know what I mean."

"Jensen. Look me in the eye and tell me we're just friends with fucking on the side. If that's truly, really what you believe."

Jensen doesn't meet his eyes; instead he looks away, mumbling something under his breath.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. And so, what, you're telling me you're going to give this – give _us_ \-- up, because you're a cop? Aren't you allowed to be happy, and have someone, too?"

Jensen runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. "Jesus, you act like I _want_ to break this off."

"You must, or you'd try harder." Jared can't believe this is happening. Not now. Not after the last couple of months.

"I'm a police officer, Jared. I'm expected to be—"

"Celibate? Or just heterosexual?"

"Goddammit! What if my superiors decide they don't want, or can't have, a queer cop, huh? Or what if some goddamn defense attorney gets wind of it, and I lose a case against some asshole who likes to boff kids, because he brings my personal life into it? Do you know how many people equate queer with pedophile?"

"Yeah, I do," Jared says as calmly as he can manage. "You're not the only gay cop on the force. And they can't fire you or whatever, because you're gay. There are laws against that."

"If they can't fire me for that, they could find another reason," Jensen says grimly, mouth twisted in a frown. "It's bad enough as it is, people know you're gay and they see us together, and with Chad, and Mike--and I've had some shit from some of the guys I work with. Not a lot, mostly teasing, but I can't—it's too important to me, this job is who I am, and I can't fuck with it."

"More important than me? Than us?" Jared backs away from Jensen, hurt stinging through him.

"No, dammit, don't put words in my mouth."

"I don't have to, you just _said_ them. That your job is who you are and it's too important. And if you're willing to walk away from what we have, I guess that tells me where I fall on the scale."

"Look." Jensen sighs, and Jared notices the dark spots under his eyes, skin puffy and shadowed. "We can—we can be friends, still hang out and stuff. Like we were before—before all the rest of this." 

"That totally doesn't make any sense, because from what you're saying, it's because people see us together all the time that they think we're in a relationship. So, no, that wouldn't work." Jared shakes his head. "Even if it would, _I_ can't—do you have any idea how hard that would be? Oh, let's go have a beer together, or get dinner, but we're not together, we're not going to come back here and hold hands and fuck, and cuddle afterward and talk about our dream place to vacation. We'd end up fucking again, and then we'd have this fight all over again, and it's—I feel like I'm being fucking shredded inside, Jen. I'm in love with you, you asshole. I can't just be your friend. Not any more."

"Then I guess…that's it." Jensen's mouth curls, but it's not a smile. It's dark and bitter, and it cuts into Jared, slices down inside him. "I'm—going. I'll come back tomorrow, while you're at work, and clear out my stuff, and leave the key on the table."

"Fine." Jared swallows down the nausea pushing up his throat, and turns away. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to punch Jensen until he's bloodied. Instead he goes and sits in front of his computer and listens to the sounds of Jensen pulling on his boots and rummaging around for his keys. 

The tears start when Jared hears the car starting up, and Harley and Sadie come and lean against him, whining softly while he sits there and cries.

~~~~~

Nobody at work mentions it directly, though Chad walks around muttering under his breath a lot, and offering to "rough 'im up for you, Jared, just say the word."

Jared doesn't take him up on his offer, tempting though it is. Instead, he throws himself into his novel, finishing the rough draft and outlining another two Winchester adventures. He also says fuck it and writes some down and dirty porn between Sam and Dean, all angry, hurtful sex followed by tender love-making. No one's ever going to see it, he's not hurting anyone with it, and when he's finished, he feels at least marginally better.

Marginally being the key word there, because when Jensen comes in a couple weeks later, the hurt washes through Jared all over again. 

He starts to get up; it's his turn to grab the counter, and even if he still feels shredded, he can be professional. Chad waves him back into his chair, though, and heads toward the counter with a grim look on his face. Jared can't hear whatever Chad is saying to Jensen, but at one point Jensen turns his head to look at Jared, lips compressed into a tight, small line. Jared gets overly interested in refreshing his email inbox; when he looks up again, Jensen's attention is fully back on Chad, and whatever he's turning in.

"Guy's a total dick," Chad says later, inspecting his sandwich carefully before taking a bite. 

Jared shrugs; he's not going to agree or disagree -- mostly because he can't decide at this point -- and the best way to get Chad to shut up is to ignore whatever he's talking about. It works about eighty percent of the time, but of course this time is one of the other twenty percent.

"He's not a dick," Jared says finally, poking uninterestedly at the bowl of soup he has. "He's just, I dunno. Not willing…not able…to, ah, hell, I dunno. Just, he's not a dick, okay?"

Chad gives him a doubtful look. "He broke your heart, and you've been moping around, all sad eyes and long face, how can you sit there and say he's not a dick?"

"Maybe," Sandy chimes in, "because Jared still cares about him."

That makes Chad sputter into his soda. "After he chose his job over you? Jared. Dude."

"What?" Jared pushes his bowl away and scowls. "It's gonna take more than a couple of weeks, doofus. I'm--it's not like I can just say 'okay, don't love him any more, he's a dick now'. It doesn't work that way." He looks up from his desk to see Chad and Sandy both staring at him. "What?"

Sandy shakes her head. "Nothing," she says softly. "Why don't you take the afternoon? It's slow, Chad and I can handle it."

Jared sighs. Be miserable here, or be miserable at home? At least at home he can play with the dogs, or watch TV, or something. Maybe go back to bed; he's not feeling so hot, actually. He pushes back from his desk to get a leave form. "Yeah, I think I will."

~~~~~

Heartbreak is bad enough; the stomach flu on top of heartbreak is nothing less than the universe being mean and spiteful.

Jared throws up for twenty hours, and he's thankful to his core that Shanna Wiseman two doors down had a box of saltine crackers and a bottle of Diet 7-Up in her pantry. She sends her son Jacobi over with them, and Jared settles on the couch with a cracker to nibble on, and a glass of soda to sip while Jacobi takes the dogs to the park to play with them for a while.

By Saturday he's feeling better. He's been able to keep crackers and soup down, and when Shanna and Jacobi come over to get the dogs to walk again, she suggests some scrambled eggs for something a little more solid. 

"The trick is to introduce solid food in small amounts," she says, patting Sadie steadily. "And if you don't feel up to eggs, have some applesauce."

"Okay, mom," he says, smiling at her from the couch.

"Smarty-pants." Shanna hooks the leashes on the dogs, and looks at Jacobi. "Ready to run 'em?"

"Yes!" Jacobi's only slightly more patient about the upcoming exercise than Harley, and Shanna gives her son an affectionate smile. 

"Maybe Jared will let you walk the dogs tomorrow, too, if you ask him nicely."

"Can I, Jared, please? I promise to walk 'em good." Jacobi's practically pleading, eyes all big and wide, and Jared laughs. 

"Sure thing, sport. I don't think I'm feeling _that_ much better."

Jacobi shrieks, and Harley barks, and Jared's glad all over again he doesn't have kids. Visiting neighbor kids is quite enough. "Thanks, Jared!"

"No problem. Go on, have a good walk. I think I'm gonna have a nap on the couch."

"Rest is the best thing," Shanna says, following Jacobi toward the door. "See you in a couple hours, Jared."

He decides after locking the door to shower and change into clean sweats, and then take a nap. TV on low volume for background noise, clean for the first time in a couple of days, Jared's stretched out on his couch and nearly asleep when there's a knock on his front door.

It takes Jared a minute to wake up enough to get up, and whoever's out on his step knocks again.

"I'm coming, hang on," he mutters, pulling the door open.

Jensen's standing there in jeans and a sweatshirt, hands stuffed in his pockets, a ball cap pulled down low over his eyes. Jared squints at him, then at the unfamiliar pick-up in the driveway, then back to Jensen.

"Uh. Hi?"

"I quit my job," Jensen says, glancing up at Jared.

"What?"

"I resigned. Yesterday. Turned my stuff in, transferred my open cases, I'm a civilian now." He looks nervous, uncertain, glancing back over his shoulder at the pick-up before looking at Jared again. "Um. Can I come in?"

"What? Oh, uh, yeah." Jared steps aside so Jensen can come in, and leans against the door when he closes it. Jensen's looking around in confusion.

"Where're the dogs?" 

"Oh--my neighbors took them for a walk. Jacobi's infatuated, and Shanna's allergic, so it's a good compromise." Jared's mind is reeling, and Jensen wants to talk about the _dogs_? "What d'you mean, you quit your job? I--you--"

"Well." Jensen stands in front of the big picture window, looking out. Jared has the blinds turned so just a little bit of the sun can come in, without making it too bright inside to mess with his now messed-with napping. He turns back to look at Jared. "Turns out being cop kind of sucks when you don't have someone to share all the weird shit with. Or someone to cuddle with, or hang out with, hold hands with."

Jared's pretty sure his heart's stopped; he's not entirely sure he's not dead, or sound asleep and dreaming all of this. Hope blossoms inside him, warm and vibrant, and his stomach flips with anticipation and a little fear. "So what're you saying?" He asks quietly.

Jensen clears his throat. "I think…I mean…I'm saying you're. You're more important than any job's ever going to be. And if I haven't fucked it up royally, I'd like, um. To try again. Be us, again. If you're willing."

For a moment all Jared can do is stare at Jensen. Of all the things he might've imagined, this is so far from any of them he's not sure he's processing it completely. Or at all.

"Jared?"

Jared shakes his head. "I can't do this twice, Jen. If you change your mind--"

"Not gonna."

"You don't know that."

"I don't know that I'm not going to be struck by lightening or hit by a car in six months, either." Jensen frowns. "I know I'm rating pretty low on the trust scale, but--please. I've been miserable."

"Me too." Jared stares at Jensen, the warmth moving through him chilled by the memories of the last few weeks. "So, um. If we do this--"

"It's all the way." Jensen takes a step toward Jared. "PDAs and calling you my boyfriend."

"PDAs, huh?" Jared smiles. "So, fucking on the patio at Starbucks?"

Jensen blinks. "As long as we have someone to post bail for us, when we're arrested for public indecency and lewd behavior." He snorts. "I'm pretty sure Chris would, as long he doesn't have to listen to me whine about missing you any more."

"You whined about missing me?" Jared moves into Jensen's personal space. "A lot?"

" _And_ had Chad threaten to kick my ass."

"I told him not to say anything to you." Jared leans his forehead against Jensen's and breathes in his scent. "God, you smell good. I missed you so bad, Jen."

"Me, too." Jensen's warm against him, pulling him closer. Holding him. "So much, Jared. It felt like I was dying inside."

The words are warm puffs of air against Jared's mouth, each one making him shiver, a fine tremble running all through him. Jared makes a quiet noise when Jensen brushes his mouth against his, gentle and closed, just lips pressing lightly. He breathes out and opens up, tastes Jensen's lips with his tongue; moans when Jensen opens to him.

Heat washes over Jared, bright and electric, and he pulls back from Jensen to laugh, needing an outlet for the joy rushing through him. Jensen joins him, the two of them hanging on to each other and laughing until tears are streaming down their faces. 

When Jared kisses Jensen again it tastes salty and sweet, and Jared feels it down to his toes. It's _hello _, and _I'm sorry_ ; _I forgive you_ and _I love you_ , and so much more.__

__It's forever._ _

____

~~~~~

_One year later_

Jared's about halfway across the quad when he sees him, still far enough away Jared can't make out clear details, other than splashes of color – blue jeans, denim faded and worn, soft to the touch. Bright red sweatshirt showing under dark blue, the same dark blue puffy jacket that hangs on the hook beside Jared's jacket.

He waves when he gets a little closer and calls out, "Hey, Teach. Want me to carry your books?"

Jensen grins, and it makes Jared's heart thump faster. The thumping turns into a furious pounding when Jensen pulls Jared close for a kiss. "That'd be swell. Might even get you extra credit."

"Ooh. I can deal with that. What kind of extra credit?" Jared takes the backpack from Jensen and slings it over his shoulder. 

"I dunno, maybe the kind where you sit down on the couch, buck nekkid, and I sit on you?" Jensen's eyes are sparkling, and Jared feels the heat kindle inside him.

"Would you be naked, too?"

"I'd insist on it. Best way to make sure all the important points are covered. If you're getting extra credit, you have to be thorough." Jared growls softly, and Jensen laughs."Guess we better get home then, since this is the kind of assignment that could take all night."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Jared leans in for a quick kiss, then takes Jensen's free hand and tangles their fingers together. "Sounds like a really excellent plan."

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N and Thank You's:** Sometimes the hardest part of writing a story (for me, anyway), is figuring out how to approach the story I want to tell. I figure 'go with what you know' is always good advice to follow, and that's what I did with this story. The story takes place against the backdrop of a Police Department Property Room, which is where I work. I don't know if the Boulder, CO police do things exactly as the Louisville, KY police, but it's safe to say there's probably not a huge amount of variation. I've included a glossary of some of the terms/phrases commonly used within a police department. 
> 
> The Golden Bee is a real piano bar, located on the Broadmore Resort, in Colorado Springs, CO. I took artistic license and relocated it to Boulder for the purpose of this story.
> 
> The Chophouse Grill is located in Boulder, and has an awesome looking menu. 
> 
> The 'Buffs' are the University of Colorado at Boulder's Buffaloes. I understand they're a pretty awesome basketball team.
> 
> The "Yard" Jared refers to was an actual bar. The Yard of Ale closed its doors in July, 2006, because of a decline in business. 
> 
> I spent a lot of time on this story, and while it frustrated me on a regular basis, I'm pleased with how it turned out. I did quite a bit of research for local details, and hopefully it will make the story more colorful and interesting to read.
> 
> I need to say thank you to some wonderful ladies for their help in bringing this story to fruition: thehighwaywoman, nu_breed, and gretazreta, thank you for the read-throughs and support while I wibbled and worried about this and that. I really appreciate your help. mkitty3, thank you for being there for me to vent to, and just being your awesome self.
> 
> And then there's cormallen, without whom this story just plain would not have happened. Period. She's been my sounding board since I first had the idea, and she's seen this story in every single draft as it progressed. She's given me feedback and encouragement, and poked and prodded me and let me do a line-by-line writing at her when it just wasn't working for me. Alex, honey, this story is dedicated to you, and I can never say thank you enough for all your help, and for your friendship. :)
> 
> I also want to say thank you to glitter_noire for the beautiful artwork she made for this story (be sure to check out her art post!), and for helping me out with the soundtrack. It's been awesome working with you, and I appreciate your patience with me.
> 
> Thanks also to wendy and audrarose for coordinating this huge thing, and for _their_ patience with me.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the story. Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> Glossary of terms used:
> 
> CACU – Crimes Against Children Unit: Responds to and investigates crimes against children, including but not limited to child pornography and sex involving a minor.
> 
> CSU/ETU – Crime Scene/Evidence Tech Unit: The unit involved in collecting and processing evidence at a crime scene, and overseeing evidence transferred to/from local and state laboratories for further investigation.
> 
> FTO - Field Training Officer. Freshly-graduated recruits (aka rookies) are teamed up with a seasoned officer in the field, usually for a minimum of six months, and longer depending on the individual departmental policy.
> 
> NCIC – National Crime Information Center: Database created and maintained by the FBI, NCIC is a computerized index of criminal justice information (i.e.- criminal record history information, fugitives, stolen properties, missing persons). Any found/recovered firearms have to be run through NCIC to determine their status.
> 
> Property Room – The facility within the police department where found/recovered property and evidence is stored. 
> 
> Property Room Clerk – The clerks who process the incoming property/evidence for storage by entering it into a computer database and packaging it for storage either on a shelf or a bin. The clerks also pull items being sent to the lab for analysis, and release items as directed by either the case officer or a court order.


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